


Savior, Bloodstain, Hellfire, Shadow

by Keeroo



Series: Rise Together or Fall Apart [1]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But Lots of Pain First, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Death, Childhood Trauma, Dante is a flirt, Desk Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Griffon is a jerk but I love him, Hurt/Comfort, I lowkey bought a William Blake anthology for this, Masturbation in Shower, My First Fanfic, Nero is a good bro, Nico is the best friend everyone needs, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Reader Has Issues, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Self-Insert, Slow Burn, Takes place in the month long time gap, Touch-Starved, V has the best hair, Vaginal Sex, We Die Like Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-04-19 16:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 37
Words: 152,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19136689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keeroo/pseuds/Keeroo
Summary: It's been years since something broke the monotony of your life, but tonight everything will change. Your city will be attacked, an ethereal structure appearing overnight. Your neighbors will die, their screams only adding to your persistent nightmares. You will meet a trio of unlikely friends, a group of strangers that will fill the void in your heart you never knew was there.Yes, tonight, everything will change.Featuring a civilian Reader who helps the DMC crew in unexpected ways. Multiple endings and sequel in the works.





	1. An Introduction to Demons

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Welcome to my gratuitous DMC5 rewrite *cough cough* I mean, my fanfiction... 
> 
> A warning - this fic has some NSFW scenes. There is also some pretty heavy stuff in the later chapters, all potentially upsetting content will have a label in the opening notes so PLEASE READ THEM! 
> 
> With that, climb aboard the pain train! Where it stops, only I know! 😊

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, hello and welcome! 
> 
> I should warn you, I am by no means a professional writer. I'm writing this because I want to tell a story other than the canon tale from DMC5. I make no promises of quality, spelling, grammar, or coherence though I will do my best. I edit my own work and do not have a beta-reader. 
> 
> As of today, 7/17/2019, I am in the process of rewriting the entire book in past tense as I feel it reads more smoothly and can do a much better job of grabbing you all by the short and curlies and dragging you along with me on this journey. I will label the date each one is updated. 
> 
> Right! With all that out of the way, let the games begin!

May 16th, 8:13 pm

Your gloved hands desperately pressed against your patient’s split flesh, his blood oozing between your fingers as your colleagues prepared the surgery room. The poor man was awake, terrified tears streaking his face as he stared into your eyes, praying you’d save him.

“It’s alright, you’re going to be okay, we’re going to take care of you,” you told him, forcing your agonized mind to project calmness and reassurance in your tone. It seemed to work; his eyes blinked and the fearful furrow of his brows eased slightly.

_Come on, is that room ready yet? He doesn’t have much time left after losing this much blood._

The linoleum floor beneath your feet, normally stark white and freshly bleached, was covered in blood. Your feet were only able to stay stable due to your mandatory anti-slip shoes. The red puddle had been growing for ten minutes as you urgently held this man’s life in your trembling hands. Most nights weren’t like this, most nights the worst you had to deal with was an idiot who hadn’t been paying attention and had touched a hot stove, or maybe if things got _really_ crazy someone would come in with a broken bone.

Rarely did you hold someone’s life in your hands. It never got easier, or less stressful.

The man’s eyes fluttered closed; his head lolled back on the gurney and your heart jumped, knowing how important it was to stay conscious at that point.

“Sir, no, you have to stay awake! Come on, wake up!” your petrified voice uttered, the sound almost foreign to your ears. He didn’t stir, and your panicked thoughts dropped into cold realization as the steady drip of his blood on the floor slowed.

_He’s not going to make it. Goddamnit!_

“Someone get me some O negative, _now_!” you screamed desperately. One of your fellow nurses dashed over with a bag, the fluid red and angry looking as she rushed to get an IV prepared. She checked the man’s pulse, searching for a vein to tap. Her eyes met yours in a shared moment of sadness as the look on her face told you everything you needed to know.

The man beneath your hands was dead.

You pulled your shaking hands away from the gash in his chest, caused by a car crash on the nearby interstate, a chunk of metal having sliced deep into his right pectoral. Your eyes filled with tears at your failure as you unsteadily walked to a nearby hazardous waste bin to strip your bloody gloves off.

There was no other urgent need for you so you stepped away to take a moment to breathe, coming to terms with your inability to save the man you had assured would be alright. You sat on the curb outside as your tears fell, chest heaving in a silent sob.

_It’s never enough, I’m never good enough… I need to get better, get faster, stronger… Have to be able to save the next one like him._

After a long moment whose length you couldn’t tell, you heard a siren approaching. Another ambulance, racing in with another person who needed help. You stood, shoving your pain away to focus on the now, on the next patient whom you might actually have been able to help.

__________________________________

The rest of your shift passed with little incident; blessedly no other patients died that night. You stripped off your soiled scrubs in the locker room, ruminating once more on all your failures. The faces of every single patient you’d been unable to save passed through your mind and you gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to never forget a single one. Your heart clenched as the man from mere hours before passed in your mind’s eye, his face frozen in a look of strange peace. Reassured by your words that had turned out to be a lie.

“Y/N, you okay?” a voice beside you asked gently. You turned to face the speaker, another nurse coming off shift. You couldn’t recall her name, never having bothered to learn it. Her perky blond ponytail swung as she tilted her head to look at you, blue eyes showing her concern as you clenched your jaw angrily.

“I’m fine,” you ground out finally, and she frowned more deeply at your clearly _not fine_ tone.

“You did everything you could for him, you know. Not everyone can be saved, you can’t blame yourself or it’ll destroy you,” she murmured quietly.

Her words triggered your mind to remind you painfully of the very first person you had failed, the image of her corpse still so clear in your memory. You gulped nervously, trying to subdue the dark thoughts as you responded to your colleague.

“I know… but I should’ve been able to save _him,”_ you whispered brokenly. The young woman bit her lip as you struggled to hold back your tears, but as the first sniffles broke through she wrapped you in a hug.

_Caitlyn, that’s her name… Caitlyn._

You hesitantly returned her comforting hug, accepting it for the slim reassurance it could provide. Your breath came out in gasps as you withheld the worst of your pain, not knowing enough about Caitlyn to trust her with your past. Even as the thought formed in your mind, you caught a whiff of her shampoo as her ponytail swung past your dripping nose.

_Cinnamon. Just like Lara._

Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, frozen like a deer in the headlights as the painful memories rushed through you. Over the years, you’d gotten skilled at subduing them whenever something brought it back to the surface, and you used all your will power to shove it back down into the hole you kept it buried in. Even so, your heart ached at the reminder, making sure you never forgot that day. You pulled away from Caitlyn, arranging your features to show her a teary smile.

“You gonna get home okay?” she asked you kindly. “I can give you a ride if you want.”

You nodded your head, a rueful glint entering your eyes as you looked at her.

“I live two blocks away, I’ll be alright. Thank you, Caitlyn,” you answered, wiping away the last remnants of your tears. You couldn’t help but hope she’d leave you alone now, and to your relief she turned away to leave with a final worried glance.

The walk home was usually a time of quiet reflection for you, a chance to review all you’d done in the hours at the ER and to tally the lives saved against the lives lost, the scales never tipping to the side of life enough for you to be satisfied. That night, you couldn’t remember a single person you helped over the last few hours, the guilt over the single death too heavy to bear.

_If only I’d gotten him a transfusion from the start. If only the surgery room had been ready. If only, if only, if only…_

You sighed to yourself as you looked forward to the bottle of whiskey waiting for you in your tiny apartment; knowing you had the next day off, you planned to drink until you couldn’t think anymore. A tradition whenever someone died in your arms, something to indulge in to avoid the solitude of your lonely apartment, where not even a goldfish waited for your return.

The familiar wooden sign greeted you from over the doorway as you reached home, its cheerful yellow paint welcoming friends inside. You liked to pretend you’d someday actually invite someone over, but in the five years you’d lived in Red Grave City, you hadn’t allowed a single person to enter your heart, let alone your home.

_Too easy to get hurt, or to hurt someone. Better to be alone._

The cheap door creaked open and you quickly closed it behind you, alone at last. The keys went in the small bowl on the side table in the entrance, coat on the hook. Shoes kicked off to the corner. With a soft click, you turned on the lights of your small retreat.

You shuffled your way into the living room, the whiskey waiting for you on the coffee table as you plopped into the cushions of your hideous orange couch. You didn’t bother with a glass, taking a sip straight from the glass bottle as you flicked on the television. You took another long gulp as you looked for something to watch, eventually settling on an over the top romantic comedy.

You kept drinking and the terrible movie became funnier with each tingly swallow. By the time the film was over, you were buzzed enough to be satisfied. Another movie began and you pulled your throw blanket over you as you settled in to watch, letting the fantasy take you away from your own problems.

__________________________________ 

_“…live from downtown, still unclear what exactly I’m looking at but it appears to be some kind of structure, Lisa.”_

_Deet deet deet deedle! Deet deet deet deedle!_

The standard ringtone of your cell phone felt alarmingly loud as you slowly cleared the fog from your mind. You barely glanced at the TV screen as you groggily fumbled for the small device, hitting the green “accept” button and holding it up to your drool-covered cheek.

“Hello…?” you mumbled.

_“Oh, thank god! Honey, where are you? Are you okay? What’s going on?”_

You sat up with a grimace at the panic in your mother’s voice, her shrill tone a far cry from her normally calm demeaner.

“Mom? What’re you talking about?” you replied quizzically.

_“The tower! It’s all over the news!!”_

The confusion swirling in your mind shifted to fear as you saw the screen at last, the reporter standing before a massive grey structure in an area you easily recognized as only a few blocks away.

_“…started only a few shorts hours ago. Officials are urging residents to stay indoors until they can assess the threat, but many locals have come to see the tower for themselves. Some religious groups are already flooding the area, claiming this to be a sign from God. All I can say for sure, Lisa, is that this thing is now the tallest point within three miles…”_

The reporter continued talking, but you weren’t paying any attention anymore as you took in what he was talking about – the enormous grey tower that stood behind him in the shot, dominating the screen and dwarfing the mass of people crowded by its base.

_What… the… fuck…?_

Chaos erupted on the screen a moment later as something punched a hole through the tower, what looked like a man and a huge beast jumping down from the new opening milliseconds later. They were too far from the camera for you to see them clearly, only dim outlines in the background of the crappy TV you’d had since college.

_“Did you see that?! What is going on? Honey, you need to leave before the roads get too crowded! It isn’t safe there!”_

The reporter on the screen was clearly as baffled as you were, his mouth dropping open and eyes widening comically as he struggled to find words to describe the scenario. He kept glancing back to the structure as he tried to do his job, but before he had the chance to speak again, everything changed.

Something had clearly gone wrong with the camera person; the view shifted to one from the ground as if the camera had been dropped. You could hear screams and watched in bewilderment as a tendril burst from the ground, its tip a gleaming point of sharp thorns. The image of that cruel spike streaking forward to embed itself in the reporter’s stomach dissolved the last of your remaining buzz, sobriety hitting you like a brick wall as his wails of terror echoed from your TV.

_“Oh, god… Y/N, get out of there now! RUN!”_

“Yeah, okay. I’ll call you when it’s safe, I love you mom!” you answered hurriedly, already rushing toward the door. You stuffed your feet back into your work shoes, slung your jacket over your shoulders and grabbed your keys. Out of habit, you took a moment to lock the door behind you before sprinting down the hallway.

Outside, you got your first look at the structure for yourself.

Its massive form rose from downtown, black and imposing. You followed its outline with your stunned eyes, looking for the top but unable to find it; it was far too tall. The structure wasn’t here when you had gotten home from work, and construction couldn’t _possibly_ have erected such an imposing thing in the scant time since then. Its origin couldn’t possibly be natural.

_So… where **did** it come from then?_

A low rumble broke your confused thoughts as you watched a tentacle burst through the asphalt ahead. Your baffled mind struggled to process the sight as the cruelly sharp tip darted down to embed itself in the stomach of another pedestrian, a scream of pain following its sickening squelch as it struck home.

Bile rose in your throat as you instinctively moved, rushing forward even as your mind screamed at you to run away. The hideous tentacle pulled back, the impaled woman falling to the ground bonelessly as it rose again to search for its next target. A surge of adrenaline gushed through you, and you somehow managed to dodge the spike as you reached forward to pull the woman out of its range. Her blood left a streak of crimson on the sidewalk behind as you dragged her to safety.

Only then did you look down, taking stock of the damage.

Her face was already frozen in death, a look of utter terror and bewilderment marring her plain features forever. You shuddered, adding her face to the ever-growing ledger of death in your mind. You stood slowly, wiping her blood on your jeans and turning away. The street was crowded by then, more and more people coming outside to see what all the noise was from.

_This is bad. They’re all going to die if they stay here._

“Hey! Everybody! You can’t stand around and _watch,_ you’ll _die_! Come on, let’s go!” you shouted, a scant few heads turning to listen but far too many people ignoring your warning. You marched up to a young woman tugging a child along by the hand, their faces more curious than scared. You reached out to tap her shoulder and she glanced back at you as you spoke.

“Lady, you’re gonna get yourself and your kid _killed!_ Look, see those tentacles? I just saw one stab someone to death with just one stroke. You _have_ to leave, _now!_ ”

She paused, her eyes shifting to see the tentacle you indicated. Her curiosity turned to fear as she took in its sharp point, giving you a grateful nod as she turned away to drag her child somewhere safe.

You repeated your dire warning to over a dozen more bystanders, but only a third of them took you seriously and ran away. You shoved your tiredness down, your long workday making your steps drag slightly as you pressed on, determined to save as many people as you could.

You watched in horror as another few tentacles sprouted from the ground, impaling a few unlucky souls and raising their bodies like trophies to the sky. More bile rose in your throat as you heard their wails of pain and confusion. You kept moving forward, still shouting warnings to anyone who’d listen. Another tentacle rumbled out of the pavement a mere three feet from where you stood, its cruel tip gleaming in the streetlights. You stumbled slightly, leaning against the brickwork of an apartment building to keep yourself from falling to the ground.

Your exhaustion tugged at you fiercely and your eyes fluttered closed against your will as the tentacle took aim at you. All thought ceased in your mind as your death approached.

With your eyes closed, you didn't see the dark-haired man sprinting at you. You didn’t see him drop a hand-carved silver cane and slide on his hip towards you as if he was stealing third base for the Yankees. You didn’t hear his low grunt as he pushed his arm out, rising to his feet just in front of you. You didn’t see the intricate pattern on his arm lighten, or the panther explode into existence mere feet in front of you, killing the tentacle with a single swipe of its lethally sharp claws almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Instead, what you next perceived was a warm hand on your side, pushing you to the right. You opened your fear-dilated eyes, shocked that you’re still alive, and immediately caught your breath.

The man who stood before you wore a look of concern on his ridiculously, _unfairly_ handsome features. His intense gaze caught your attention first, irises the shade of muted emeralds, glinting with every flash of light. Dark eyelashes framed his long stare, thick eyebrows only adding to the expressiveness of his piercing gaze. A prominent nose flowed from his browline above his full, pink lips, parted as he breathed heavily before you. Beautifully intricate tattoos covered his body, partially concealed by his clothing but clearly visible on his long, toned arms. The black of the ink on his skin only served to contrast his alabaster skin tone. His hair was as dark and shiny as obsidian, barely brushing the collar of his black leather vest.

"You must move, you cannot stay here!" the beautiful stranger declared urgently with a voice like velvet. _Goddamnit, could he be any more attractive?_ You tried to take a step but discovered you couldn’t find the strength, your exhaustion overwhelming you at last. He paused, seeming to study your expression and huffed in irritation.

"Fine, I'll help you then," he announced, and suddenly you were against him. You blushed scarlet as he picked you up, carrying you in his lean arms towards a nearby van. The motion shook you out of your worn-out stupor enough to be embarrassed by your helplessness.

"I - I'm sorry, I think I can walk now," you told him shakily.

He gently placed your legs on solid ground with a nod. He turned to survey the area, presumably to check for more tentacles. You took a moment to search for nearby people you could warn and found a pair, shouting the now familiar warning as you saw the panther fighting. Its form shapeshifted periodically into new shapes full of sharp edges and harsh points and your mind struggled to comprehend how this was possible, trying fruitlessly to make sense of all the outlandish sights you’d seen in the last ten minutes.

_What the **fuck** is going on?_

The stranger grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the van once more, and you tried to focus on the vehicle to avoid thinking about how many of your neighbors were now dead. It was an odd contraption, clearly customized with a neon sign on the side which read “ _Devil May Cry”_ and a laughably false phone number listed beneath it. Its grey and white paint was coated in dust and what looked like blood, not all of it dry. On his way to the van, the stranger only paused to lean over and pick up an ornate silver cane, flicking it to his side in a clearly practiced motion. You found yourself once again unable to comprehend what happened next as a cloud of black shards left his tattooed arm, drifting to the air nearby and forming a magnificent blue bird, the strangest you’d ever seen with a three-pronged beak and purple legs that seemed far too large for its body.

The bird _laughed_ and dove at the nearest tentacle, slashing it with its talons. You heard the outlandish creature curse as the tentacle tried to stab it as it attacked.

The back door of the van suddenly crashed open, drawing your attention as a white-haired man leaned out. He was young, around your age if you had to guess. An absolutely huge sword was strapped to his back, and he waved you forward with an oversized pistol in hand.

"Hurry, we gotta go NOW, V!" he hollered. He hurriedly stowed the pistol and reached out to help you inside, the dark-haired man not far behind you. To your surprise, the panther also jumped into the van. The second you were all inside, the van took off at a speed that was nearly as terrifying as almost being impaled by mysterious tentacles, accelerating faster than you imagined a vehicle of its size could manage. Outside the van, you caught a glimpse of the strange bird you saw moments ago, flapping hard to keep up with the racing vehicle.

"Hold on, folks!" a feminine voice with a southern drawl yelled from the driver’s seat. You grabbed onto the nearest solid object, an odd countertop hidden in the corner and held on for dear life as the van dashed through the city, to somewhere (you hoped) very, VERY far away.

__________________________________

V

V looked over at the young civilian he'd just rescued, wondering how long it would be before you were calm enough to think clearly. Your hands were shaking, eyes wide and dilated. As he watched, your jaw clenched and your hands steadied as you inhaled deeply. You closed your eyes, let out the breath and turned to face him as the van sped past the crowds of terrified residents, various pieces of kitchen equipment and power tools clanging at every pothole Nico drove over.

"Thank you for saving me. I... I think I would be dead if not for you," you whispered softly. Your eyes were still fearful, but you seemed coherent enough. He took a moment to gaze at you, taking in your appearance. You had gentle features; a kind face. He felt an odd sensation in his stomach as he recalled your words.

" ** _And the maiden soon forgot her fear_** _._ Are you alright? Perhaps you ought to sit down," he responded gently and gestured at the worn couch under the window.

You nodded and cautiously made your way to it, keeping your knees bent to attempt to compensate for the Nico’s wild movements. As you moved, V studied you more closely. He was curious - most civilians didn’t exhibit this level of stoic acceptance after first encountering the demonic roots, not to mention the fact that you had been actively trying to warn others and urging them to run. Your quick calmness was... intriguing. He couldn't tell if you had any demonic blood, but you obviously weren't unfamiliar with fear. No one who could calm themselves that quickly was new to the feeling, he knew.

"My name is V, that's Nero, and Nico is driving. Griffon is outside and her name is Shadow. What shall we call you?" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the van wall casually. He gestured to each named being as he introduced them, Griffon and Shadow returning to him as the vehicle got farther away from danger. Your eyes widened as the black shards sank into his skin.

You glanced away, quick to look elsewhere as your cheeks flush slightly, he noticed. _Perhaps she’s embarrassed about needing to be saved?_

"My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you all,” you responded finally. “Umm, do you know what those... tentacle things were? Where did they come from?"

V smirked. This might take a while to explain.

__________________________________

_Demons._

_Demons are real._

_Demons are real and attacking my home._

"Holy shit," you exclaimed, eyes wide, looking back and forth between the two men. "So, wait, how do you kill them? Why are they here? How can we stop them from killing people?"

Nero laughed, but not in a mean way. He seemed genuinely amused as he sat down on your right, leaning back against the couch cushion nonchalantly.

"Slow down, Y/N! They aren't too hard to kill, at least the lower powered ones. Pretty much anything that would kill a human can kill a demon; guns, swords, punches, you get the idea. Don't really know why they're here, but V might. He's the one that hired us to deal with it, after all."

V smirked, his full lips twisting in a way that made your eyes flick to them for a heartbeat too long. You scolded yourself; _this isn't the time for that!_

"They are here because of Urizen. The Demon King, as he calls himself. For now, we should find somewhere to rest, gather resources. As for you, Y/N, forgive me but you don't seem like you're quite up to fighting demons. We can take you to the edge of the city, but from there you must make your own way to safety."

You paused, considering his words. He wasn't wrong; you had no combat experience and had no idea how to be helpful in a fight. Not to mention you were completely terrified, as well as you tried to conceal it.

_This is insanity. These people are mad, fighting those things. We should all just run, go somewhere else and leave this city as far behind as possible._

Yet even the thought of abandoning the people still in the city felt... _wrong_. You didn't want to run from this, especially not with this feeling, like you were magnetized to this group. You couldn’t just walk away when so many people were dying, _you had to balance the scales!_

_I’m going to get myself killed. What am I thinking, I can’t help people if I’m dead! But.. there are so many people here. They’re all going to die too._

You took a deep breath before speaking, brutally shoving your fear to the farthest corner of your mind and focusing on what little you _could_ do to help the small group.

"It's true, I'm not really a fighter. I’m a nurse, and I've been studying surgical procedures in preparation for medical school. I can help you if anyone were to be injured. As much as I'd like to not have to face those things ever again, it wouldn't be right if I left. _I_ wouldn't feel right," you explained uneasily, hoping the group didn't judge you too harshly for your previous terror.

V raised an eyebrow at that, then glanced at Nero. “ ** _The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest,_** _”_ he recited simply. Nero shrugged, and for the first time you got a good look at his right arm. You gasped as you saw the haphazard bandages covering a stump, blood stains showing in a deep rust shade, a recent amputation that clearly hadn’t been taken care of properly.

"At the very _least_ let me dress that! You'll get an infection or sepsis; _it could kill you!"_

V snorted, to your surprise. "You mean he would be... _dead weight_?" he commented, obviously amused. His intense emerald eyes flicked to yours as if sharing an intimate joke, and you smiled at him hesitantly.

Nero turned red, muttering to himself for a moment about someone named Dante, then nodded at you sullenly. Clearly V’s words had hit a sore spot.

"Fine, when we stop you can take a look," he grumbled. He shot a glare at V, then shuffled off to sit in the front with Nico, leaving you alone with the obsidian haired man. You could hear them talking for a while but couldn't tell what they were saying. You turned back to V, mind still whirling with questions.

His long fingers pulled a thin book from within his leather vest, clearly preparing to read. You swallowed your questions for the time being, not wanting to interrupt the strange man’s reading.

_I need to rest; I can barely keep my eyes open. The adrenaline must be fading._

You leaned back into the couch, reassured that with this group you could sleep in safety, closed your eyes and drifted off into oblivion.

__________________________________

You dreamt of the past, of course. Your mind never blessed you with pleasant dreams anymore, always seeking to understand, to learn more from memories that your waking mind knew would bring only pain. Memory is the enemy of peace, after all.

The familiar sounds were there, as always. The crack of glass breaking and the high-pitched screams of your friend, the unmistakable sound of her gasping breaths.

Then the visuals. Shadows dancing like a sick ballet on the wall of the shed. Dead eyes staring up at you as a warning. The flash of light on gleaming steel as ---

__________________________________

 You awakened with a jolt as Nico slammed the brakes, causing you to slide unceremoniously into V. He had sat down at some point next to you. With lightning reflexes, his arm shot out and held you close as the rattling van mercifully slid to a full stop, keeping you from falling to the floor. You could feel him breathing under you, smell his scent of leather and lavender. The combined sensory input was... _intoxicating_. You tried to pull away, but he held you for a split second before letting go. You blushed furiously, sure that he was teasing you. You couldn’t bear to look at him so you missed the look of regret he gave you, and didn’t see him lick his lips before speaking.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" he inquired softly, his tone almost a growl.

You internally cursed his voice for having such a pleasant sound before responding.

"Yeah, thanks for the help... again."

V chuckled under his breath, then returned to his reading. Sitting so close to him, you caught a glimpse inside the pages to see a flowing script and beautifully colored illustrations. Forgetting your embarrassment and the lingering fear from the nightmare, you asked what he was reading.

"Poetry. Would you like to hear some?" he responded, his voice like warm honey.

The thought of his voice reciting poetry sent your mind spinning. _Nope, no way, nuh uh, you’ve already made enough of an ass out of yourself, so you just hold your horses there, girl. There’re bigger things to be worried about anyway, like DEMONS!_

"Sure,” your rebellious mouth stated.

_Goddamit. Stupid mouth._

He smiled, gaze returning to the pages as he chose a piece to read.

_“ **I will not cease from mental fight, Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand, Till we have built Jerusalem, In England’s green and pleasant land,** ”_ he recited, his voice melodious and perfectly timed.

“Beautiful,” you whispered, the words rolling in your mind as you digested them, finding meaning in the short excerpt as a low hum of recognition passed through you. “Is that… William Blake?”

V nodded, seemingly taken aback.

“You enjoy poetry?” he asked you.

You felt your cheeks tinting as he studied you intently as you replied, “I guess you could say I’m a bit of a bookworm. Literature is a gift.”

The outer corners of his lips twitched, smiling for a fraction of an instant. If you had blinked you would have missed it. He seemed pleased by your response and you smiled at him shyly, shifting your weight awkwardly.

“I couldn’t agree more, much to our companions dismay. They are of a different mindset,” he replied thoughtfully.

“What’s your favorite poem, V?” you probed him, enjoying the chance to talk with someone who shared your enjoyment of words.

“I’ve come to enjoy The Book of Thel a great deal, are you familiar?”

It rang a bell but you couldn’t remember any details of the work.

“I read it many years ago, though I can’t remember any of it now,” you responded.

“Allow me, then; **_Why thou complainest not when in one hour thou fade away: Then we shall seek thee but not find; ah Thel is like to thee. I pass away, yet I complain, and no one hears my voice._** ”

You sat in silence, letting the words sink in. V’s soothing voice added a layer of complexity to them, sounding quite sad and mournful as he recited.

Luckily for you, Nero chose that exact moment to trudge over to you with a small red box labeled "first aid". He sighed, seeming to have resigned himself to your treatment.

_As if it isn't in his best interest anyway_.

"Let's get this over with, Y/N," he grunted. V stood and gave you a nod as he walked away a few feet to continue his reading. You focused your mind on the task at hand, pushing the memory of his voice away.

__________________________________

V

V watched you gently remove the bandages from Nero's arm, trying to figure out his reaction to your words. None of the others he had become familiar with enjoyed poetry, several rolling their eyes the first few times he quoted a line in conversation until they became accustomed and ignored it entirely. He felt his heart warm slightly by the shared enjoyment, a distraction from his mission. A pleasant distraction, but a distraction nonetheless. He must remain focused - he didn't have time for any fellowships or pleasant conversations.

Yet still, he found himself watching you redress Nero's arm, wondering what your touch felt like. Perhaps that was it? Perhaps he simply wanted to be touched, to feel connected? That would explain most of his reactions to you so far.

_Enough of this. Focus. Too much is at stake._

He mentally shook himself and returned his gaze to the words on the painted pages before him, forcing himself to pay attention and read the now familiar text.

**_I am in you, and you in me. Mutual in divine love._ **

V sighed and rolled his eyes.

_How unhelpful._

He glanced back at you and Nero, seeing you smile at something the white haired warrior had said. Laughing. He wondered what that felt like as well, to share mirth in such a way with another person.

A memory played in his mind, of many years ago. It was a simple one, a trifle really. He was playing with Dante in the backyard, not long before... _before._ The two of them were laughing together over a fort they had built out of sticks, the structure haphazard and childish. Their mother was nearby, keeping a careful eye on them as they played.

He smiled softly at the thought, wondering if Dante had any fond memories of them as children. Somehow, he doubted it.

_Again with the distractions._ _Enough is enough._

V looked out the window, easily spotting the already massive tree in the center of town. The sight helped him focus, helped him remember his priorities.

__________________________________

 After removing the old bandages, you took a moment to examine the wound. It was in bad shape, looking as if Nero had initially seen a doctor but later popped the stitches in at least three places, leaving open wounds to fester and bleed freely. There was already a slight infection, but nothing too serious if he let you take care of it and didn’t do anything stupid.

“How long ago did this happen, Nero?” you asked.

“It was April 30th, so sixteen days ago,” he informed you as he watched you examine him.

“Ah, alright then. It should heal fully in about two to six more weeks, until then you need to change the bandage at least once a day, if not more,” you explained to the willful young man.

You dug through the poorly organized first aid kit, finding an unopened bottle of antiseptic and several rolls of bandages. Some gauze patches lied on the bottom.

_Perfect, now all I need is a towel or a bowl._

You looked to your left and right, eventually finding a small cup that would work well enough. You carefully angled Nero’s arm over the cup and got the antiseptic ready.

“This will hurt a bit, Nero,” you warned him. He nodded, ready, and you slowly poured the fluid over his injury and let it drip into the waiting cup below. He grunted but didn’t pull away. Once the drips had slowed enough, you laid a gauze patch over his half-healed stitches, using one hand to hold it in place as your other reached to grasp the bandage roll. You used your teeth to get the first portion open, proceeding to gently but firmly wrap up Nero’s arm. You used the scissors from the kit to cut the end and secured it with a satisfied smile.

“All set,” you told him.

Nero carefully moved his arm, testing the bandages' flexibility. You knew he would, he seemed the type to never hold still if he could help it. You’d seen many people like him come through the emergency room, struggling to hold still as you treated whatever they came in for even as their lack of stillness worsened their condition.

"Feels good, Y/N! Thanks! You _are_ handy!" He jumped up, throwing a few experimental punches, bobbing and weaving like he was in a boxing match with Muhammad Ali himself. You laughed as he feigned dodging a blow; his antics allowed you to forget the horrors of what you’d witnessed for an all-too-brief moment.

"Hey hey hey, not in the van! Take it outside, jerkwad!" Nico exclaimed hurriedly, coming out from her perch in the drivers seat. She pushed Nero towards the door, forced him outside and slammed the door behind him.

“Sheesh, what an ass…” she muttered under her breath, but you could tell she meant it with affection. She looked like she’d be happiest on a construction site or in a garage. A multitude of tools were strapped to her shorts and you could see oil on her arms, along with tattoos that seemed to revolve around guns and skulls. She pulled out a cigarette, lighting it as she leaned over to you.

“Hi, I’m Nico. Welcome to the Devil May Cry-mobile, I’m your resident genius gunsmith and artist extraordinaire. You joinin’ the team? Would be nice to have another lady along for the ride!”

Your eyes flicked to V as your thoughts debated your options again.

_What about my life? What about going back to school, learning to be a trauma surgeon? Can I really justify putting that on hold, maybe even abandoning it entirely to help these people?_

_…How can I not?_

V smirked knowingly but nodded before following Nero outside, waving his hand through a cloud of Nico’s expelled cigarette smoke as he passed.

“I guess I am,” you replied, smiling and doing your best to ignore the panic in your mind at the thought of staying in an area full of... _demons_. The thought of their existence brought a surreal feeling to your mind and you wondered if this entire day had been a dream. A new nightmare shaped to ensure you paid it the attention it demanded.

“Awesome! You wouldn’t happen to know how to cook, would’ja? Nero’s _hopeless_ and V’s somehow _worse_ , and my cooking skills don’t extend beyond cereal and mac and cheese,” she asked with a smile on her face.

You found her smile infectious, and you felt your own lips stretching into a grin as well as you responded, “I’m no master chef, but I get by alright.”

She clapped your back in a friendly manner, taking a pull from her cigarette. The tang of nicotine filled the air as she exhaled, the enclosed space holding the smoke captive. You ignored the scent, used to it after years of exposure.

“All right! Well, we’re probably gonna stay here for the night, kitchen’s in that corner if you’re hungry. The guys generally sleep outside but I think you could squeeze in here with me for now. Sound good?”

You nodded, grateful for her easy acceptance of you even as your mind still struggled to control your overwhelming fear. You found yourself warming to her quickly, despite a history of not getting along well with other women. Glancing at the kitchen, you spotted the cereal she mentioned sitting atop a stovetop. There were a few cupboards but not much else. You hoped you could gather some basic food staples in the morning, but for now the call of hunger was weaker than the call of rest. You yawned, almost cracking your jaw in the process.

“Here, I’ll get ya a pillow and another blanket, bout ready to crash myself!” Nico commented. She opened another cupboard, pulling out a small but fluffy looking pillow and a fleece blanket. She handed them to you, put out her cigarette in an ashtray nearby and gave you a salute before climbing a tiny ladder to what you assumed was a hidden bed.

“Goodnight, Nico. Thanks,” you said through another yawn. You heard a soft click and the van went dark.

“No problem, new girl. Night!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to anyone who read this before the update; I'm sorry you trudged through the previous incoherent mess of an opening I had, and I thank you sincerely for being among the first to read my work. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
> 
> As always, my gratitude for reading, leaving kudos, and above all for commenting. Interacting with you guys is the best part of posting this here, it helps me keep going and several of you have inspired new scenes I hadn't initially planned.
> 
> Next Chapter - Reader finds herself in a sticky spot, and must find the strength to push through it.


	2. First Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kind comments and kudos on chapter one! Hope you all enjoy chapter two :D
> 
> Date of most recent revision: 7/23/2019

May 17th, 9:07 am

You pulled Nero aside the next morning awkwardly. Even with everything that was going on, you needed his help to fulfill a promise, and you took your promises very seriously. He gave you a questioning look as the pair of you walked out of camp, just far enough for privacy.

“Nero, I have a favor to ask,” you began uncomfortably, palms already sweating. You had no clue how he would react; he was still practically a stranger to you. Yet despite your anxiety you had to try.

“Okay, what do you need?” he replied equally uncomfortably.

“I need to call my mom, and I don’t have a signal here. Can you take me somewhere to try to reach her, or to a payphone nearby?” you ask with a cautious smile, holding up your cell phone. You didn’t even have a charger with you, so you needed to do this quickly. You’d been keeping it turned off to conserve what little battery you had left, but eventually it would die.

_And I promised to call her when it was safe._

Nero chuckled, scratching the back of his neck with a small smile.

“Yeah, I can do that. One condition, though. I get to borrow your phone after you’re done to call Kyrie,” he answered at last. You held out a hand to shake on it with a smile and Nero grasped your palm firmly, his eyes glittering in excitement.

“I’ll go tell Nico, wait here,” he commented as he released your hand. He disappeared back toward the camp and you had a moment of precious solitude as you waited for him to come back. You took a deep breath, enjoying the chance to think without interruption.

_This entire situation is so crazy. Mom’s going to tell me I should leave, and by all rights she won’t be wrong. But, still…_

Despite your ability to see how illogical it was to stay, here you were. You couldn’t even rationalize it to yourself, let alone explain it to someone else. The pull was simply too strong to ignore, the urge to do what you could to help a powerful force as it ever had been. Until now, helping hadn’t been so risky.

_This is going to be a difficult phone call._

“Alright, Y/N! Let’s go!” Nero called out as he trotted back to you. Your thoughts scattered like pollen in the wind as the two of you set off, headed toward an area that seemed less active with demonic activity. Hopefully, there was a decent signal there, but you wouldn’t know until you got there.

You ended up not going far. When you powered up your cell a mere two blocks to the south you found that you had three bars. You smiled at Nero and he politely wandered a short distance away as you dialed your mother. She answered on the first ring, her gasp of relief making you bite your lip in anxiety.

_“Y/N! Oh my gosh, are you okay? Where are you, did you get out of the city?”_

“Hi mom. I’m alright, calm down!”

_“Where are you? I can come meet you if you need a ride!”_

“That’s fine, I uh… I’m still in the city,” you replied hesitantly, bracing yourself for the coming storm.

_“You WHAT?! Get out of there, what are you thinking?”_

“Mom, listen to me. I found a group of people to travel with, they’re experts on this stuff, but none of them knows even basic first aid, so I’m staying to help them,” you explained. You could tell how worried she was by the numerous seconds of utter silence that ticked by as she struggled to wrap her mind around your decision.

_“You can’t be serious. You’ll get yourself killed if you stay in the city!”_

You sighed heavily, mentally searching for a way to make her understand. Yet there was nothing, no clever turn of phrase that would make your mother stop worrying about your safety as you stayed in a city under siege by a mysterious force. You hated making her worry, hated causing her stress. Your mother had been through enough and she deserved any shred of peace you could offer her.

“Mom, I understand what you’re saying. I really do. But they need my help, and I can’t just walk away to save my own skin. They’re strong, they can protect me,” you tried to reason, unsuccessfully as she almost growled on the other end of the line. A series of heavy footsteps echoed through the empty street as Nero approached, a concerned look on his features as he heard the strain in your voice. He held out his hand in a silent offer, waiting patiently for you to decide.

“Look, I’m going to put Nero on with you. He’s one of the people I’m travelling with,” you informed your mother, handing the small phone over to the white haired man with an apologetic smile. He held it up to his ear and instantly cringed as she shouted at him angrily.

He waited patiently as she finished her tirade, sharing a look of bemused surprise with you as her voice gradually wound down. You couldn’t quite hear what she was saying, but could hazard a guess to the gist of her monologue.

“Look, Mrs. sorry, what’s your last name? Newman? Ok, look Mrs. Newman, I’ve been dealing with this kinda stuff for years and this isn’t even the worst thing I’ve seen. I get that it looks insane from the outside, but I swear to you on my fiancé’s life that we _will_ keep her safe.”

Another few shouted threats, but Nero only nodded thoughtfully as he listened intently. You cracked a smile at his focused expression as he dealt with your protective mother at her finest with surprising skill.

“Yes, I’m aware. She _does_ seem special. Honestly, none of us have a _clue_ how to dress a wound and her skills have already been a huge help. I wouldn’t be so dumb as to risk her life after seeing how helpful she can be,” Nero commented logically. His words seemed to help, your mother’s response slightly less high volume than the last few.

He nodded again seriously, his lips a tight line of tension as he sighed heavily into the mouthpiece.

“Yes, I can promise you that. Here she is,” he concluded, then handed the phone back to you with a slight tint in his cheeks, one of his hands scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. You took the phone back and returned it to your ear with a grimace, bracing yourself to get chewed out.

_“He seems nice. Too bad he isn’t single…”_

“Mom! Seriously?” you cried in embarrassed surprise.

_“What? You’ve been alone for too long! Just… promise me you’ll be careful, okay? I don’t know how I’d recover if I lost you, honey.”_

“I promise, mom. I’ll call you again soon, okay?” you replied, swallowing the lump that appeared in your throat at her concerned tone.

_“Okay. I love you, Y/N. Be safe.”_

“I love you too, mom. Goodbye,” you murmured, then ended the call with a slight sniffle. The phone still had almost half a charge, so you handed it back to Nero with a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Nero. Your turn,” you reminded him, stepping away as he took it and dialed Kyrie. His face lit up with joy as she answered, and you smiled gently to yourself as you watched him talk to her from afar, enjoying the chance to see how much he cared about her. It brought a slight ache to your chest to see, envy for the unknown woman’s bond flowing through your mind. You missed that feeling, knowing that someone cared about you that way.

_I’m not an idiot teenager anymore, I don’t need someone to love me to feel good._

_But it sure would be nice._

 ______________________________________

May 18th, 11:32 am

You finished tying off the end of Nero’s bandage and sighed. “That’s the last one. We’ll need to gather more today, and we could use some antiseptic too, maybe some groceries if we’re lucky,” you told him as he performed his now familiar stretches to check the tightness of your handiwork. His arm was healing well, faster than you would have imagined. Another week and he wouldn’t need the bandage anymore, but in the meantime…

V looked up from his poetry book, carefully sliding it back into his coat. “Nero and I can gather what you need. There’s a market not far from here that looks mostly intact,” he commented, standing slowly.

You instantly wanted to go with them. Nico’s van had become a second home to you in the time since your rescue, but you hadn’t been farther than ten feet from it. The stifling air, the close quarters, Nico’s occasional string of curses as she worked… it was all making you feel a bit claustrophobic. You were filled with restless energy and had no way to burn it. The idea of a walk, even a _short_ walk, made your heart beat faster in excitement.

Not to mention you wanted to make sure they brought back exactly what you needed. The two men weren’t exactly well versed at taking care of themselves, so you had your doubts to their ability to bring back the correct medical supplies.

“I’ll come too, I could use a walk and if it isn’t far it should be safe,” you hesitantly replied, hoping they didn’t protest.

Nero grinned, standing and cracking his neck loudly. “Works for me, just stay behind us and try and keep up,” he stated cockily. V frowned slightly but didn’t argue, much to your surprise. You had expected him to protest, but he simply shrugged his tattooed shoulders nonchalantly.

“Fine, an extra set of eyes is never unwelcome. Shall we?” He moved toward the door as he spoke, clearly anxious to get moving. You smiled widely and followed him, Nero close behind.

“Grab me some cereal, I’m almost out!” Nico called out from behind her workbench and you snickered. She kept a box at the station with her at all times, hastily cramming a mouthful of it between her lips as she worked every few minutes. Often times her curses had to find a way through her full mouth before being heard, and the sound of crunching clusters of cereal mixed with the mechanical sounds of her working throughout the day.

“I’ve got you covered, Nico!” you called back to her as the door swung shut and you stepped away from the van, a nervous smile on your lips as you left the safety of camp behind.

Oddly enough, the journey to the market was uneventful. Quiet, even. The streets, once filled with life and noise, were silent save for the sound of your groups almost alarmingly audible footfalls on the pavement, stepping cautiously around the extensive cracks in the street. It amazed you how in the span of a few short days, the city seemed to have been completely vacated. Looking around you, it felt like the citizens of your home had simply… _vanished._

_I guess all those disaster movies had it wrong. The streets aren’t full of abandoned cars, no luggage left behind in the chaos of flight… no trampled bodies or evidence of panic._

Then you noticed several human shaped husks as you walked, looking like some demented form of modern art. You felt a pang in your heart as you saw one no larger than a child, arm still outstretched to grasp the string on a red balloon, and realized they weren’t statues, or art.

_They’re… **people.**_

Revulsion and a sick curiosity filled you, your stomach threatening to reacquaint you with your breakfast even as your eyes looked closer at the nearest husk, trying to understand how a human being could possibly be reduced to… _this._

The remains were unlike any other corpse you’d ever seen. The flesh was grey and webbed, looking not dissimilar to the false spiderwebs you’d used as Halloween decorations, or maybe if you looked at a sponge under a microscope. You could see beneath the top layer of skin in most areas, and you could tell the condition persisted throughout the body. Red strands branched out from what resembled a vine overlapping the corpse’s spine, a grotesque caricature of the nervous system. There were no facial structures discernable within the mass of greyish-white fibers where eyes, mouth and nose once resided, no way to possibly identify the remains. No way to offer comfort or closure to those left behind.

You widened your gaze to take in more and more of the abhorrent husks arranged in varying positions of running away or engaging in a last embrace with a loved one or twisted into positions of panic and fear. Their final moments captured forever in a sick mimicry of life.

A warm hand on your shoulder interrupted your morbid musings, bringing you back to the moment. Nero stood beside you, a look of sympathy on his features as he watched your reaction to the ghastly scene.

“We were able to evacuate about two dozen people total, just me and V. I’m sure we weren’t the only people doing it. And some folks from the outer areas of the city might have made it out in time,” he stated, clearly doing his best to reassure you.

“There’s nothing we can do for them now,” V added, his voice oddly tight as he continued, “ ** _Now is my grief at worst: incapable of being surpassed._** ”

V bowed his head, obsidian locks falling forward and hiding his face from view.

“What _did_ this to them?” you questioned the two men quietly.

“I can’t be sure yet, but I may be able to find answers in Dante’s library. The man himself didn’t care much for research, but some of his allies managed to collect a respectable amount of information,” V replied.

You edged away from the deformed remains and gave Nero a grateful look, his hand still resting on your shoulder. He patted your shoulder gently before his hand dropped.

“We should keep moving,” he reminded you kindly, and the three of you journeyed on towards your destination.

The remainder of the distance passed in silence, all of you lost in a haze of troubled thoughts. You couldn’t stop thinking about the husks, wondering if any of your acquaintances or coworkers made it out of the city.

_I should have called them, warned them somehow… I should’ve saved them, should have at least **tried.**_

The thought made your heart clench in guilt and you thought of little else for a time before the silence pressed in on your mind, making the sound of your groups footsteps seem to echo in the quiet air.

The lack of demon activity set you on edge; you had expected more of the strange tentacles to appear, brandishing their deadly spikes like a Kraken rising from the depths. Your suspicion grew as you approached the small supermarket, wondering if demons were smart enough to lay traps.

They were.

The moment you entered the shop, a crackling sound struck your ears as unearthly red webbing covered the doors and windows. Nero and V both took up battle stances near you, and you began to quake in fear as the demons appeared through greyish portals. You realized then that you had only seen the tentacles until now and your blood ran cold as you got your first glimpse at these new foes.

_Oh my god, I think I’m going to be sick…_

They resembled insects but were as large as bears. Some had red abdomens pulsing with what you assumed was blood, others featured wings and glowed with an eerie green light. They smelled like death, like maggots feasting on corpses. You knew the aroma well and tried to swallow your revulsion as your stomach rolled at the scent.

The men sprang into action immediately, Nero laughing as he slashed at a red bellied demon with his hilariously gargantuan sword. He dashed off between the aisles into the shop, giving chase to several creatures as they backed away. You lost sight of him, turning to watch V instead.

The obsidian-haired man moved sideways, pulling out his poetry book before pointing his silver cane out, and you watched in awe as Griffon exploded out of the ink on his body in a chaotic shower of black shards.

"Hell yeah! It's about time, Shakespeare!" Griffon howled as he dove toward the flying creatures.

V smirked in amusement, but he wasn't done. You blinked and Shadow appeared at his side, roaring a threat to the closest demon.

"Pin them to the wall..." V intoned, his voice deep and foreboding. It sent a tingle up your spine, the tone he used one you’d never heard from him.

Griffon and Shadow attacked, moving with grace and deadly precision. You expected the demons to fall to them quickly, but they seemed unable to finish off their foes. Instead, V would dart forward in the blink of an eye and deal the final blow with the end of his cane. He moved so fast you could barely track his movements, incredibly elegant and poised. Each time he finished off a demon, you spotted a small smile on his face, barely a twitch of those full lips. He looked... euphoric.

_Nero and V can handle this. All I have to do is stay out of their way and we should all be fine. Right?_

Suddenly you heard a hissing sound to your left. You had been so preoccupied watching V that you hadn't noticed a demon approaching you sneakily. You gulped anxiously, looking around desperately for a weapon but finding none, only shopping carts and baskets. The creature advanced on you, forcing you back into an aisle of kitchen supplies. You searched the displays desperately for a knife, a pair of scissors, _anything_ with a sharp edge but all you saw were baking sheets and wooden spoons.

_Fine. That'll have to do. I **won't** be helpless again._

You snatched up a baking sheet and held it like a shield; a wooden spoon became your sword. You had little range, so you waited for the creature to approach you. It didn't take long - it rushed at you with a monstrous chittering, sensing your fear as your heart pounded frantically against your ribcage. You lifted the baking sheet to shield your face and smacked the creature as hard as you could with the spoon. It made a satisfying squelching sound, but the creature barely backed off. You glanced around again, desperately searching for more options as you continued your retreat down the aisle. A frying pan caught your eye - at least that had a wider end to smack the damn bastard with.

You threw the spoon at the creature and grabbed the pan as quickly as you could before it had a chance to take advantage. The creature came at you again, and this time you aimed more carefully. You struck it square in its face, causing it to let out a slight yelp of pain. You grinned, gaining confidence. You swung the frying pan again, landing a hit on its disgusting mandibles. One of them broke off, and you did an internal victory dance as it clattered to the linoleum floor. It came at you once again, and you slammed the pan into its face at the same time as you swiped at its spindly legs with your baking sheet shield. The creature tumbled to the ground and you took your frying pan in both hands, proceeding to beat its hideous face in. You lost track of how many times you hit it, pausing to see the damage you dealt, chest heaving.

_Is it dead?_

The creature let out a final whine of pain, then went still. You had won! You laughed, flush with victory as the creature began to dissolve in a cloud of grey particles, not unlike those that herald Griffon’s or Shadow’s arrival.

V chose that moment to limp into the aisle, take one look at you standing above a dying demon, a frying pan clutched in both hands and a look of elation on your face, and immediately barked out a laugh at the sight.

You turned crimson, then started giggling with him. _I must look absurd!_ He walked over to you slowly, leaning heavily on his cane. Smirking again.

" ** _The weak in courage is strong in cunning,_** yet you seem to have an abundance of both. And considering your weapon was a simple kitchen pan, I imagine you'd be invincible with a true weapon." His smirk evolved into a true grin, and you noticed that his eyes sparkled when he smiled. He reached out, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. His touch made you catch your breath.

"All hail the mighty wielder of kitchen supplies!" You heard Griffon call out from his perch on top of the aisle, chuckling as well.

V smirked yet again before grunting in pain and coming close to collapsing. You took a step towards him, worried, but he stood tall quickly enough and waved you off.

"We'd best find Nero. And find those supplies you require. Shall we?"

He turned and limped away. You followed him closely, still watching to make sure he didn't drop. He leaned on his cane heavily as you searched the store for Nero, clearly worn out from the battle. You wondered what was wrong with him, if there was any treatment you could offer him to help ease his pain.

_I’ll ask him later, when we’re in a safe place._

Luckily Nero wasn’t far; as you and V approached him he dealt the death blow to a hideous creature with a scythe, looking like a real-life Grim Reaper. You shivered at the thought as Nero slung his huge sword across his back and strode up to you.

"I think that's the last of them, let's get what we came for and scram," he recommended. You nodded, eyes scanning the signs hanging above the aisles for the section of the store with first aid supplies as you tried not to think about how V's touch had felt when he tucked your hair a moment ago.

Within ten minutes you had everything you could need and then some, having taken everything on the shelves for first aid purposes. You were also able to find some boxed meals that only needed water or an egg to be edible. Some cereal for Nico, granola bars, beef jerky and a couple cans of soup rounded out your loot. The three of you headed back outside, Nero in the lead just in case. You fell into step with V, still watching him to make sure he was alright.

Griffon settled onto V's arm, watching you scrutinize his master. You blushed when he commented with a teasing chuckle, "Careful V, this one can't keep her eyes off ya!"

V smirked but didn’t respond. You saw him glance at you, catching you staring, and wondered if it was possible for you to turn any redder. You kept your eyes on the ground from then on, not seeing that V was watching _you_ now.

 ______________________________________

V

V studied you, wondering if perhaps you had more to offer than first aid skills. Seeing you take down an Empusa with nothing but a frying pan had been extraordinary, especially considering that only a few short days had passed since you had almost gotten yourself killed. You clearly learned fast, or at least had the determination (or stubbornness) required to be a devil hunter.

_Come to think of it, I have yet to meet a devil hunter who **isn’t** exceedingly stubborn._

The thought made him smirk, amused.

Remembering his own weaknesses, his own frailty, caused V to hesitate to place your well-being in his own hands. He couldn’t rely on his own strength to keep you from harm; it was too fragile, too unreliable to be counted on.

_She must learn to keep herself safe._

It was obvious to him that you needed training, but he couldn’t do it himself. His own technique of summoning wasn’t exactly… _teachable_. Perhaps Nero would be willing? He might even have a spare weapon for you to use. If not, V was certain he could find a suitable alternative somewhere inside Nico’s cluttered van. There always seemed to be extra odds and ends around.

 ______________________________________

 May 19th, 12:37 pm

V

V emitted a small noise of frustration as he studied the weapons he’d located for you; a hammer Nico no longer used, a dagger Trish left behind on that ill-fated day not long ago, and an old revolver of Dante’s with a sticky loading mechanism.

_It isn’t much, but it’s better than a frying pan._

He looked out the grimy window, scanning the campsite for you. It wasn’t a large area, just barely big enough to fit the van amongst the rubble and for Nero to have dragged a picnic table over and built a fire pit for an all too rare hot meal. There you were, stirring a rather large stew pot over the open flames. Nero sat nearby at the picnic table, keeping you company.

“Ya got enough ammo for that revolver?” Nico asked him from her usual spot behind the counter. She was working on some kind of arm for Nero but had kindly spared a few moments to help him gather the weapons.

“I believe so, at least for now,” V replied thoughtfully, idly running his fingers over the grooves of his cane.

_How much ammo does one need, usually?_

“Then why are ya still in here? Go give em to her! Sooner she’s trained up the better. I got a feeling she’ll keep an eye on you two _geniuses_ when I can’t,” Nico added with a teasing grin. V nodded, carefully placing the weapons into a simple bag to carry them. Sometimes it was a chore having to use a cane.

_I suppose that’s one way Nero and I are similar; neither of us has the full function of our arms. More or less._

He stepped outside, sparing a moment to enjoy the sun on his skin before limping his way over to you. He took a seat across from Nero, leaning his cane against the wooden planks of the bench beside him and placed the bag in front of you.

"What's this?" you inquired as you shifted your gaze from cooking to meet his eyes.

"After the incident with the frying pan, I thought you might have need of a slightly more suitable weapon. If you’re to travel with us, you’ll need to be capable of defending yourself," he answered carefully.

"But... I don't know how to fight,” you reminded him hesitantly.

V smirked. "Not _yet_ , you don't. Nero, would you be willing to train Y/N?"

Nero beamed and V internally congratulated himself on finding a way for you to train and simultaneously for Nero to allow his arm to rest. He wouldn’t go all out against a beginner, so the arrangement was better than if Nero were left to his own devices. V knew he would then overexert himself against whatever demons may be lurking nearby, the young warrior seemingly incapable of holding back.

"Nero, you're going to train me? But what about your arm? It's still healing," you asked the wounded warrior.

"Pfft... I can train you without using both arms, no problem! It'll help me stay sharp too; I'd hate to lose my edge from all this _resting_ you're forcing me to do," he scoffed with a playfully dismissive wave. "C'mon, it'll be fun!"

You sighed, clearly exasperated by the young man as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "Fine, but the _second_ you start bleeding you let me look at it again, ok?"

Nero rolled his eyes but nodded.

“For now, lunch is ready. Allow me,” you offered as you ladled out three servings of piping hot stew.

“Awesome, I’m starved!” declared Nero enthusiastically as he quickly knocked on the side of the van to let Nico know lunch was ready.

“Thank you, Y/N. This looks wonderful,” V added. He took a small bite; the beef was chewier than he would have preferred, but the flavor was magnificent, and he released a small sound of enjoyment.

_How on Earth did she manage to cobble together such a taste?_

“Thanks, V,” you answered with a smile, and he dipped his head in acknowledgement. Nico came barreling out to join the group; she never spent much time eating actual meals if she was in the middle of a project, so when she took her bowl back inside no one was surprised. The three of you tucked in together, enjoying the simple stew quietly until everyone finished eating.

As the sounds of eating faded, V leaned back to enjoy the sunlight on his skin once more. The flavor of your stew lingered on his tongue and he did his best to memorize the taste, locking it in his memory.

_Such simple pleasures must not be taken for granted._

“So, uh, how did you guys end up doing this? Hunting demons?” you shyly asked, breaking the silence.

Nero chuckled, his eyes catching V’s in a moment of shared introspection.

“That… is a very, _very_ long story,” Nero started off, shifting his body to settle in to tell the lengthy tale. V knew the basics of Nero’s story, but curiosity filled him at the chance to learn more and hear it directly from the young hunter’s own mouth.

He launched into the tale of the Order of the Sword, the attempted murder of their leader Sanctus by Dante, and their plot to open the Hell Gates; the resulting demonic attack on Fortuna and creation of a monstrous statue they dubbed “The Savior” to protect the city from an evil they had unleashed. He tried to gloss over any mention of his fiancé, Kyrie, his eyes getting a strange look in them that V didn’t recognize whenever he spoke her name.  V noted that your face also changed expression at the mention of her, and he wondered what on Earth he was missing, what detail eluded him that left him feeling so… _empty._

“And I’ve been hunting the ugly bastards ever since,” Nero concluded eventually.

“Wow… I think I remember hearing something about that a few years back, but I thought people were _exaggerating_. That’s… you must _really_ love her,” you murmured in awe. Nero turned completely red and looked away from you, stammering.

_Could it be love? Could that be what I do not understand; what it is to love someone?_

V searched his recollections and found nothing, no moments of connection or affection in his Vergilian memories save for the scant moments of his youth with his mother he could barely recall from so long ago. He glanced again at Nero’s expression and decided he would like to know what that felt like, to love someone. To be loved.

_Pointless. My fate is sealed, there is no time to waste on other pursuits._

“Yeah, well… sure. What about V? What’s your story?” Nero asked in a clear attempt to redirect the conversation.

_I will eventually need to tell them something, but this is not the time._

V forced out a chuckle and reached for his cane, standing slowly as he spoke. “Mine is a story for another time,” he informed you and Nero, walking away from the table. He twirled his cane and pulled out his poetry book to read, to focus his mind, and you and Nero exchanged a look before you stood and gathered the dishes to wash up after lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed Reader's first actual fight! That was a ton of fun to write. Anyone want to guess what Reader's past holds? I'm curious what you guys think. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting! Your feedback keeps my soul alive.
> 
> Next Chapter - Reader's battle training and some fluffy, angsty deliciousness.


	3. Of Qlipoth and Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date of most recent update - 7/24/2019
> 
> Enjoy!

May 20th, 10:12 am

 The next day, you and Nero found a clear area to begin your training. You thought it was some kind of statue garden before the demons arrived and smashed most of the sculptures. V stayed close, in case there was an attack, and you imagined to also watch as you made a fool of yourself but you were too unfamiliar with the man to voice the thought. He kept far enough back that it didn't make you _too_ nervous at least. Nero clapped his hand on your shoulder, bringing your attention back to the present.

“First off, I’m going to teach you a bit about demons,” he began with a smile. “You’ve seen a few already, what do you remember about their appearance?”

You recalled the creatures that attacked you in the supermarket, shuddering in revulsion at the memory.

“I remember thinking the ones at the supermarket looked like giant bugs, but _way_ more disgusting. And that they were big, like bears,” you responded, wondering what he was getting at.

“Right! Nasty little things, Empusa’s. The ones we ran into had been feeding, that’s where the red in their body came from. They had been feasting on human blood. We don’t know much about them other than that they aren’t very strong and tend to travel in groups of at _least_ three. We’ve also seen a few variations of them, some flying and others less prone to attack. The main thing to keep in mind when fighting Empusa is to keep your eyes open for the group. If you only see one, chances are the others are close. Don’t let them swarm you if you can help it,” Nero instructed you, and you tried not to imagine how different your fight would have played out if there had been three of the monsters attacking you instead of just one.

_I would have died._

You gulped and refocused on Nero, taking in everything he told you as if it was all that stood between you and certain death, because it was.

“Tell me how you killed the one at the store.”

Your mind flashed back to the moment you managed to defeat the horrible beast, the feeling of elation and fierce pride that filled you at your success.

“I knocked it off its feet and bashed its face in with a frying pan,” you told Nero, wondering how much V told him about your first kill. He barked out a laugh and smiled at you, clearly amused.

“Nice! Knocking them down is always a good bet; their legs aren’t very stable and once they’re on the ground you can finish them off relatively easily. The face is a good target, or the abdomen. The belly works too, if you can reach it,” he advised you with a grin.

You carefully filed the information away in your mind, memorizing it for future use as Nero paused before continuing.

“Did you see the one with the scythe?”

Again, your mind flashed to the events of two days prior, remembering the demon Nero had killed just as you and V found him.

“Yes, but I barely saw it,” you answered him. He nodded, as if he had expected that.

“That was a Hell Caina, or Caina for short. They’re almost as common as Empusa and a bit trickier to deal with. They have surprising range, so don’t let them get close to you. If you get cornered by one, climb. They don’t seem to be able to strike at an upwards angle. If you can’t climb, wait for them to swing and roll under their legs – they have a wide stance when they attack. They’re weak to attack in the head and belly.”

You nodded, a sponge to Nero’s instruction.

“There’s a ton more demon types I could teach you about but for now let’s switch to some combat training. I’m going to come at you like a Caina would; I want you to focus on dodging and evading the attacks,” he summarized, taking up a fighting stance and backing up from you a few feet. His legs spread apart and he reached toward you, striking you in the stomach easily but without force.

“Dead. Again,” he stated simply and prepared another swing. You didn’t know what to look for, unsure how to tell when the blow was coming but sure it would come. You tried ducking and his gentle strike hit the side of your head that time, just above the temple.

“Dead. Again,” he repeated again and you watched his shoulders this time, catching them shifting into a new angle as he prepared his third strike. You saw his right shoulder start to move back as his left arms swung toward you yet again, and you ducked sooner this time, dodging the attack.

“Good! A few more times, just to make sure you’ve got it,” he declared with a pleased smile. You managed to dodge the next few blows relatively easily, but each time you had to focus intently to do it.

_If I get distracted in a real fight I’m done for._

Nero paused, giving you a moment to catch your breath. You gave him a grateful look, your body unused to this type of exertion. It wasn’t that you weren’t fit. The simple fact was that your body was used to long days of being on your feet at the emergency room, always in motion but rarely moving faster than a brisk walk. The quick movements required to dodge his attacks were a different sort of exercise, a sprint as opposed to the marathons you were accustomed to. After a few moments, you were ready to continue on.

“What’s next?” you asked your teacher, excited to learn more.

He smiled mischievously before speaking. “Now, I’m going to teach you how to take a hit.”

You looked at him quizzically, not sure what he meant, and he elaborated kindly for you.

“If one of them does manage to hit you, it’s important that you know how to minimize the damage, how to move so that you can counterattack instead of lying there for them to finish you off,” he explained patiently.

“That... makes sense. What do I do?”

“Punch me, and I’ll demonstrate.”

You hesitated at the idea, not wanting to hurt him. You knew he could easily take anything you could dish out, but still…

“Don’t worry, I can take it. Aim for my shoulder,” he informed you, easily following your train of thought. He stood there, waiting for you to strike.

You pulled your arm back, readying a right hook. You punched him in his shoulder where he instructed you, not too hard but he still moved with the blow. You tried to note how he moved but it was too fast for you to absorb it.

“Try a few more times, Y/N. Watch my upper body,” Nero coached you. You wound up for another hit to the same spot, eyes on his torso as you landed a soft blow against him. That time you noticed how just before your fist connected, he leaned back slightly in the same direction your fist flew. His body bounced back into position almost immediately, recovering easily.

“I think I saw it that time!” you exclaimed, thrilled by your observation.

“Alright! I’m going to shove you then, and you try to do the same thing. I’ll be gentle,” he assured you, and you planted your legs in preparation. He reached out and tapped your sternum, indicating where he was going to strike. You watched, waiting, trying to judge the timing as his open palm shot right at you. It was so fast you forgot to move, and the blow struck you firmly enough to make you take a step back.

“Again,” he ordered you, and you resumed your stance obediently. That time, you saw his hand move a fraction of a second before he hit you, but you were still unable to move fast enough to shift correctly. You tried twice more before you finally managed to lean away just before his palm connected with your chest, and you marveled at how different the blow felt.

“Great job! Again,” Nero praised you, and you reset your stance again. It wasn’t easy, and your sternum started to ache at the repeated light blows, but as you practiced you gradually lessened more and more of his strikes and you grinned at your progress.

“Alright, great work so far. It’s important to be able to do that with any section of your body, so we’ll practice it more later on. For now, let’s see how you do with a weapon. Let’s start with the easy one; the gun. Have you ever used one before?” Nero asked you.

Instantly your mind pulled up the only time you’d ever fired a gun – the quiet boom that had echoed in your muffled ears on the mountaintop as you squeezed the trigger on your cousin’s massive rifle. You hadn’t landed a single shot that night, but you were drinking then. Hopefully shooting sober would make it easier to actually _hit_ something.

“Yes, but not very well. I couldn’t hit anything,” you answered Nero, blushing slightly at the admission.

“Yeah, it can take some practice. Here, I’ll show you how to load it.”

He took the small gun from the ground where you had put it before beginning, practiced hands moving over the revolver with ease as he opened the cylinder, moving it to the left in a single smooth motion. He pulled a few rounds from his pocket, dropping them into the chambers and making sure to show you which way the rounds should face. He pushed the cylinder back into place with a sharp _click_ , and handed the loaded weapon to you.

You took it from him carefully, making sure to keep the barrel pointed at the ground as you shifted your hands into what you imagined was a passable grip.

“Are you left-handed?” Nero inquired from your left side.

“No, right-handed,” you answered him and he showed you the correct position for your hands, dominant hand on the grip first and left held over it to stabilize.

“Ok, when you’re ready, show me how you’d aim it. Use that tree as a target,” he instructed you, watching you carefully as your arms lifted the weapon to eye level. You held the gun steadily, elbows tight but not locked. Nero barely adjusted your stance, kicking your feet slightly farther apart and nodding in satisfaction.

“Cock it and take a shot when you’re ready.”

You did your best to aim the weapon at the nearby tree, using your thumb to pull back the hammer before moving your index finger to cover the trigger. You slowly squeezed it until the gun discharged, a loud crack echoing in the clearing for a moment. You didn’t hear the bullet strike anything and knew you’d missed.

“Alright, good. We just need to work on your aim a bit. Try again but keep your eyes on the sights. Don’t look at the target as you fire.”

You followed his instructions, carefully lining up the sights with a perfectly placed knot on the trunk of the tree. That time, when you squeezed the trigger you were rewarded with a second crack as the bullet struck wood.

“Better, but you hit the tree next to the one you were aiming at. Try again,” Nero told you patiently, and you felt a rush of appreciation for his kind teaching style. You squeezed the trigger again and managed to hit the right tree.

“I did it!” you laughed and lowered the weapon, pointing it at the ground as you turned to Nero with a wide smile. He looked back at you with a matching exuberant grin.

“Well done, Y/N! Go ahead and fire the rest of the rounds and try to hit the same spot each time. Let’s see how precise we can get your spread,” he responded happily.

The last three rounds all hit the same tree but were at least a foot away from each other. Still, you were pleased with your progress. You were so focused on your training that you didn’t notice V stepping a little closer to the clearing to watch.

________________________________________

 V

He watched you, the way you moved, the expressions on your face when you managed to hit the tree filling him with an odd sensation. Was it... pride? He couldn't recall ever being proud of another person before. Perhaps it was something else... maybe not. He couldn't be sure. He watched in silence as you and Nero returned to practicing hits and how to move with the blows.

All he could be sure of was that he enjoyed the way your body flowed when you moved with a blow, and he delighted in your smile when you stood up straight after a particularly hard motion after Nero changed his target unexpectedly and struck your belly.

He watched you for hours as you learned how to slice, stab, shoot, smash, and kill. You weren't a natural, but your determination and tenacity worked in your favor, and by the end of the day you showed great progress.

_I hope this will be sufficient for her to survive the coming battles._

________________________________________

May 21st, 8:26 am

You stirred the giant pot of oatmeal, lost in thought as you prepared breakfast for what were quickly becoming your friends. You’d enjoyed Nero’s teaching, V’s quiet focus and Nico’s unrelenting energy. You hadn’t felt this peaceful in years, which was ironic considering the chaos that enveloped your home.

_I didn’t even have any nightmares last night, that hasn’t happened since… I don’t even remember._

How incredible it had been just an hour earlier to wake up feeling _rested_. None of your friends were up yet, they tended to sleep a bit later than you did most days. You smiled at the thought, remembering the first morning you’d come outside into the campsite to find V and Nero sleeping on some mats, V peaceful in rest and Nero’s snores reminding you of chainsaws. How V slept through that, you couldn’t imagine.

You gave the oatmeal another swirl, taking a small amount onto the wooden spoon and tasting it. It was almost done, maybe another minute or two. V and Nero were still resting on the other side of the small campsite; you had gotten breakfast started as quietly as you could, and they had both slept right through it. Your eyes lingered on V. He was the only one who hadn’t shared anything about his past with you, maintaining an aura of mystery that made you ache with curiosity.

As you watched him sleep, his lips parted and he sighed, starting to wake up. You quickly redirected your eyes to the oatmeal, not wanting to be caught staring at the dark-haired man. You heard the rustle of him standing and the clattering of his cane as he walked over and sat near you.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you teased him lightly. He smirked and let out a yawn, his long fingers covering his mouth as his jaw opened wide.

“Good morning, Y/N. Did you sleep well?” he asked you kindly, not even responding to your teasing.

“Yeah, actually, I slept really well,” you responded before trying the oatmeal again. It was done, so you laid out four bowls on the picnic table and served, V helpfully holding each bowl closer to the pot to help you.

“Thanks, V. Hungry, I hope?” you asked, and he nodded as he reached for the spoons. He picked up two and hands one to you and you smile at him in return.

The pair of you ate together in a comfortable silence despite the fact that you barely knew each other. As the clatter of your spoons scooping up the meal slowed and eventually stopped, you broke the silence.

“What’s the plan for today, V?” you probed the lean man.

He leaned back, stretching his long arms over his head as he answered. “I imagine you’ll be training more with Nero. I’ll be making the trip to Dante’s to research what this growth in the city is, see if I can find a way for us to combat it.”

“Ah, good idea. Are you going alone?” you asked him, slightly worried.

He smirked, extending one of his hands out toward you. For a moment you thought it was an invitation, but then the black of his tattoos faded and a smaller version of Griffon appeared floating over his open palm. You marveled at the tiny, silent Griffon as he spoke, his voice low and amused.

“I am never truly alone, Y/N. There’s no need to worry. I’ll return by this evening, hopefully with some answers.”

His fingers closed and the miniature Griffon vanished back into his tattoos. He stood slowly, leaning on his cane.

“I’d best get moving. **_The hours of folly are measured by the clock, but of wisdom: no clock can measure_** ,” he stated simply.

He gave you a nod and limped away. You watched him as he left, still worried about the poet but knowing you wouldn’t be much help anyway. You cleaned up the empty bowls as Nero started to stir, finally waking up from his deep sleep. He let out a long yawn and looked around, bleary eyed.

“Hey, Y/N. Where’s V?” he questioned you.

“He just left, he’s heading to Dante’s to research what the hell is going on,” you responded and handed him a bowl of oatmeal. He shot you a look of gratitude and dug in. You chuckled; Nero was always hungry when he first woke up. You heard clattering and curses from within the van, and Nico emerged a moment later. You’d learned she was _not_ a morning person and you handed her the last bowl of oatmeal wordlessly. She grunted and sat down, eating almost as quickly as Nero.

Once he finished eating, Nero brought you back to the clearing for more training and the day passed in a blur of new fighting techniques and practices. Before you knew it, the sun had begun to set. You wondered if V had returned yet as you and Nero returned to camp. When the pair of you arrived, you found V and Nico deep in what looked like a serious conversation.

“Welcome back, V. Find anything?” you asked him amicably, standing next to the firepit and wondering what you could make for dinner.

His voice was dark, almost angry as he replied.

“I found much, and none of it good. Take a seat, both of you.”

You and Nero shared a glance of concern as you sat down and waited for V to speak, to tell you what you’re up against. You took a moment to study his face, seeing the dark circles under his eyes and the tenseness of his mouth and realized you weren’t getting any good news tonight.

“It took some time, but I found mention of a tree that grows in the underworld, the Qlipoth tree. It consumes blood, usually through local demons harvesting and bringing it back to the tree. The tree uses the blood to produce a fruit, which, when eaten, gives the consumer incredible power. I believe this is Urizen’s plan, to wait until the fruit is ready and then use it to gain yet more power, at which point we may as well stop fighting.”

You shivered at the quiet anger and despair of V’s voice. He seemed almost personally offended by the demon’s plans and you couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Okay, then. So, what I’m hearing is we need to go kick his ass as soon as possible. Is there any way to stop the fruit from growing?” Nero asked quietly. The news clearly didn’t sit well with him either.

“No, but we can slow it down by destroying roots of the tree and by defeating what demons we can, preventing them from bringing it more blood. The roots themselves form an almost symbiotic relationship with nearby demons, bonding to the strongest one it can find. Kill the host, kill the root.”

Nico released out a long breath, then leaned back.

“I’d better get back to work then, you’re going to need what I’m cookin’ up,” she informed the group darkly, standing. She headed back into the van and the three of you soon heard her cursing and clattering around her workstation.

Knowing there’s little you can contribute to the conversation, you decided to start on dinner. You had a few options, none of them that appealing. Eventually you settled on a few cans of chicken soup, going inside to use the stove to heat it up since the fire was looking rather low.

The sound of motors running greeted you, Nico already hard at work. You got started on your own task, both of you focusing on helping the two men outside defeat the terrible darkness that had cast a shroud over your home.

_________________________________________  
_

May 26th, 10:07 am

The next few days passed in a blur of fight training, cooking, and the now habitual morning bandage change for Nero. His arm was almost completely healed now, scar tissue developing incredibly fast. You mainly kept changing the bandage to ensure he had something to cushion his arm against the prototype arms Nico had been experimenting with. At first you thought she was attempting to make him a simple prosthesis, but after a few days it became clear these are meant to be far more than a replacement – she was building him weapons.

That sunny morning, she had an orange toned arm for him to try. At first glance it looked basic; molded to look like an ordinary arm. But upon closer inspection, you saw the fingers had spikes hidden in them.

“There’s a little button here, when you push that it’ll deploy the spikes. Should be pretty _handy_ against a demon!” she quipped, chuckling at her pun. You joined in before she continued her explanation.

“Course, you have to get pretty close to use em, but that shouldn’t be hard for ya. I call it Bladestorm,” Nico announced proudly as she showed Nero the button near the elbow on the device. He, of course, immediately pressed it.

Five-inch spikes shot out of each finger on the arm, forcing Nico to jump back in alarm as they barely missed her skin. The spikes were serrated, looking like they could cut through steel. You stepped back a pace in alarm as Nero smiled apologetically at Nico.

“Watch it, psycho! You almost gutted me like a damn trout! Take it outside, go on!” Nico shouted at him and he quickly retreated outside the van to experiment with the new device, smiling like it’s Christmas. You and Nico followed him outside to watch her creation in action.

Nero trotted confidently over to a nearby tree, cracking his neck as he went. He thrusted his new arm out, grinning like a madman as the spikes sank into the bark. He tried to pull his arm back, only to find that it was now stuck. You stifled a laugh as he futilely tried a few more times to free himself before he twisted his arm, and you heard a cracking noise as the spikes broke off into the trunk of the tree. Nico gasped and ran over to him.

“You! You idiot! The things are retractable! Aww, man…” she sent him a heavy glare and looked at the thoroughly embedded spikes of metal in the tree, clearly coming to the conclusion that she wouldn’t be able to retrieve them. She smacked the back of Nero’s head, muttering angrily about wasted resources. He grinned sheepishly at her.

“Sorry Nico… lemme get those for ya. Back up for a sec,” he told her, drawing his massive sword. She obliged hastily. He twisted the hilt and it emitted a sound like a motorcycle engine revving. The blade lit up, catching fire as he swung it against the tree, letting out a brash _whoop_ as it made contact just above where the metal was stuck. There was a loud cracking sound as the top half of the poor tree came hurtling down. Nero smirked and slashed his blade against the remains of the tree, cutting off the section with the embedded metal spikes. It clattered to the ground and came to a stop right at Nico’s feet.

“How long do you need to fix it? I feel ready to kick some ass,” Nero commented to her as she picked it up.

“By all rights I shouldn’t even bother fixin’ it for you! You’ll probably just break it again anyway. Lucky for you I’m an _artist_ and I wanna see my work completed!” Nico poked Nero in the chest with the chunk of tree as she reprimanded, driving her point home before she went back inside the van to remove the spikes from the hunk of wood.

Just then, you heard the tell-tale clattering of V’s approach as his cane struck the ground. He’d been off scouting the area, keeping it clear of demons so the rest of you could make your preparations in peace.

“Hey V! Check out what Nico made for me!” Nero proudly displayed his new mechanical arm to V, who cocked an eyebrow at the odd contraption. “It had blades but I broke them. I think once it’s fixed we should be ready to go.”

“Excellent. We are running out of time as it is. The demons are getting bolder and we still have no idea what happened to Dante, Trish and Lady. Without them we may not even be able to finish this, but we must try regardless,” the poet replied tersely

“Who’s Dante? And Trish? And Lady?” you asked.

“More devil hunters – the best in the business in fact. The three of them faced Urizen the same day we met you, Y/N, but we weren’t able to get them out of the Qlipoth after the battle. It was all I could do to drag Nero out. It is my hope that we may yet find them somewhere along the way, but if not it will be up to us to end this,” V answered with a tight grimace.

You had your doubts as to whether anyone could have survived the devastation for over a week, but maybe the three “best” devil hunters would surprise you. You crossed your fingers and asked the universe for a little help. You followed V as he limped to the edge of the clearing your group had been using as a campsite, leaving Nero to his own devices. V sat near the firepit, adding a log to the flames almost as an afterthought. You plopped down beside him, and he glanced at you, his gaze serious and penetrating.

“You may not survive the coming battles if you remain with us. Your help with Nero’s injury has been invaluable but if you wish to leave, this may be your last chance. As soon as Nero is ready, we’ll be setting off, and we won’t turn back again,” he murmured softly.

He seemed sad to say the words, and regardless of their truth you knew there was no turning back for you now.

_I can’t walk away when I know I can help. No matter the price._

You reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, looking deep into his emerald eyes before you responded and choosing each word with extra care.

“I know what I’m risking by staying. But I’d be risking _more_ by leaving now. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your health problems, V. We all know Nero can’t do this alone – he needs allies. He needs _you_. And if you should falter, he will fail too. Then what? The _world_ falls. If I can somehow help you stand strong, help you support Nero and whomever we can find along the way, how could I possibly turn away? My life, or the hope of the world? It’s an easy choice for me.”

He nodded grimly with his mouth set in a hard line. He reached out to mirror you, laying a hand on your shoulder. His touch sent a jolt through you as he opened his mouth to speak again.

“I am glad to know you’re with us. Your presence…” He glanced away, unable to hold eye contact as he continued. “It comforts me. It’s odd to think it, but you may be the difference between victory and defeat. How fortunate for us all that you stepped out your door at the exact moment we were passing it.”

You blushed slightly at his kind words and squeezed his shoulder gently to offer your support. His gaze flicked back to your face, and for a moment you could’ve sworn his eyes locked onto your lips. You licked them nervously and he blinked, breaking the moment. His hand dropped from your shoulder and you followed his example, already missing the warmth of his touch.

“ **The most sublime act is to set another before you** ,” he murmured, still looking at you intensely.  “And here you are, setting the entire world before you. You are extraordinary.”

You blinked, unsure how to answer such lofty praise as V stood. He gave you a nod and walked away, leaving you to your thoughts.

________________________________________ 

May 27th, 11:27 am

Nico managed to fix the broken arm easily; a little bit of welding was all it took to reattach the broken metal spikes. Final preparations were made quickly; bags packed with granola bars and trail mix, weapons sharpened and routes planned. By 11 am there was no reason to delay any longer and the time finally arrived to leave the little campsite that you’d called home since the attack. The group split; you traveled with V and Nico with Nero. You made it a point to teach Nero how to wrap his arm before he left, but you still worried he might forget.

Still, parting was difficult. You’d come to care so much for these people in such a brief amount of time, and you didn’t want to split up. The basic plan was to take separate routes toward the main portion of the Qlipoth, searching for your friends along the way. For now the main objective was to clear out some of the outer lying roots, thereby weakening the main structure and slowing the growth of the fruit.

The day started easily enough. You and V picked a trail leading to the nearest visible root of the massive tree, planning to eradicate it. You weren’t sure how, the damn thing was nearly thirty stories tall already and you had no weapons capable of making such a structure fall. Regardless, you trusted in V’s knowledge and expertise on the subject and walked beside him through the wreckage.

The neighborhood you were in was part of the local community college, the campus featuring lush landscaping and plenty of benches for students to pause between classes and study on. You could almost see them, backpacks slung low on young shoulders, heavy with the weight of the expensive textbooks. It reminded you of your years studying to become a nurse, a time not long ago when you had finally had the clarity and focus to start building your future.

_I wonder what the future holds now, how different my path will be after this… catastrophe. Assuming I survive this._

You tilted your head to face the sun, reveling in the feeling of being alive with warm sunlight caressing your skin. You resolved to enjoy the simple pleasures during your journey, to not take a single breath for granted. The thought of death made your very bones shake with fear, but the thought of doing nothing was far worse.

_Never again. I’ll never let myself be a bystander if I can help it._

The thought filled you with determination, as it always did. Suddenly, V spoke, shaking you out of your reverie.

“ ** _One thought fills immensity,_** ” he recited, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you, curiosity clear in his expression. “What are you thinking about?”

You briefly toyed with the idea of making something up, nervous embarrassment filling you. It wasn’t in your nature to share your innermost thoughts with others, especially when you didn’t know them well yet. But there was something about V that reassured the anxiety in your heart, his presence like a balm on your soul. He didn’t seem the type to judge or think less of a person; respect almost emanated from him like an aura. You discarded the lie, letting him see just a glimpse of the part of yourself you kept hidden, locked away inside you to keep it safe.

“I was thinking that even though I might not live through this, and don’t get me wrong, the idea scares the _shit_ out of me, I still can’t let myself be a bystander. Better to die than to do nothing,” you told him honestly as you stepped carefully over some fallen bricks.

V’s jaw clenched, eyes flashing as he continued walking beside you, following your footsteps.

“I understand the feeling. I’ve heard it said that courage in the face of fear is the most difficult to accomplish,” he responded thoughtfully.

“Fear either stands for forget everything and run, or face everything and rise,” you commented back and he chuckled lightly.

“A clever way of saying it,” he replied with an amused smirk. The pair of you turned a corner and your eyes widened. The ground had shifted, rising at least twenty feet to form a near vertical cliffside, the rapid change in elevation causing the building before you to shear partway through. You could see inside the upper levels and it reminded you of a dollhouse where the walls could slide away for easier access. You looked left and right to see how far the new terrain extends, but more buildings blocked your line of sight.

V sighed as if he expected this, his following words confirming your thoughts.

“As I thought. The roots grew so rapidly the very Earth has shifted to make room. We’ll have to find a way up or go around,” he stated mildly. He stepped forward, the soles of his sandals making an oddly satisfying rhythm against the pavement. You followed him, still staring at the bewildering sight. He reached the front of the building and peeked inside briefly, only needing a glance to ascertain the damage.

“There’s no way through here, let’s try the next building,” he informed you. He twirled his cane absentmindedly as he walked, making you wonder why exactly he used it.

_An old injury? Some kind of medical issue? Maybe he’s deformed or something. Odd how whatever his reason is, it seems to come and go._

Your thoughts were interrupted by the strange crunching sound of the red barriers forming; _demons_. V immediately grasped his cane more firmly, pointed it forward and summoned Griffon and Shadow, his tattoos lightening noticeably as they appeared. You counted three Empusa and two Caina appearing as V withdrew his book of poetry.

“Let’s kick some ugly demon asses!” Griffon shouted as he dove toward the nearest Empusa, Shadow roaring as she shifted into a bladed form and charged forward. A Hell Caina near you stole your attention, its scythe dripping red menacingly as it approached you. You knew you couldn’t risk getting within its attack range, so you drew the revolver from your belt. You pulled back the hammer and aimed, firing it as quickly as you could manage. The Caina staggered as the bullets struck home, hitting it in the chest. It dissolved quickly, vanishing in a puff of black dust.

You allowed yourself a brief moment of satisfaction before you turned your attention to the next demon, an Empusa. This time you drew your hammer and dagger, circling it carefully as it drew closer. It streaked forward and you lept back, taking a swing with the hammer and a slash with the dagger as you went. The dagger barely sliced into its flesh, but the hammer hit home in one of the Empusa’s tiny eye sockets. It let out an enraged squeal as it stepped back to recover.

You glanced at V, making sure he was managing well but you needn’t have worried. He circled the battle, ever on the fringes. As you watched he dashed forward, his cane sinking into the flesh of a dying Caina.

“ _Die,”_ he instructed the demon in the harsh tone he reserved for battle. You switched your focus back to your own foe as he darted off again.

The Empusa you were fighting charged you again, and you took careful aim with your dagger. You sliced its throat deeply in a death blow as it barely grazed you with its claws, leaving a shallow cut on your arm. Nothing serious. You looked around for the next enemy only to find there were none left and the red webbing had disappeared. You stowed your weapons, panting, as Griffon landed on V’s waiting arm, cursing the demons as the last one dissolved into nothingness.

**“** Is that all you shitbrains got? Yeesh,” he teased the dying demon from his master’s arm. Shadow growled in agreement, stalking over to V for him to scratch behind her huge ears. It made a lovely picture, V standing there with one cane-holding arm held aloft for Griffon to perch on, his other arm patting the massive panther. His hair fell forward and you grinned in amusement as he shook his head to move it out of his eyes instead of pausing his panther-petting.

His head turned to look at you as you approached him, Shadow following suit to eye you warily. You weren’t a cat person, yet you found yourself curious what her fur felt like. You extended a hand cautiously for her to sniff, thoroughly pleased when she did exactly that. She pushed her muzzle against your palm in approval and you ran your fingers through her fur. Up close, it resembled V’s hair, though Shadow had red lines pulsing through her fur periodically. She was soft, feeling much like an ordinary housecat under your fingertips. You smiled as she pulled away to return to V’s tattoos in a cloud of black particles.

_I wonder what_ _Griffon’s feathers feel like?_

“Hey, Griffon, can I touch your feathers?” you asked him shyly and he looked at you with one beady eye.

“Hear that, V? Your little lady friend wants to _touch_ me,” he teased as he fluffed up his feathers, showing off a little bit as he continued, “First she makes goo-goo eyes at you, Shakespeare, then she goes and pets the cat, and now she wants to touch me. Sweetheart, you have some _seriously_ weird taste.”

You blushed and tried to ignore the goo-goo eyes comment as you waited for Griffon to actually answer you. He sighed and mumbled something to V, who smirked, but finally the blue demon lowered his head in a gesture of permission. You reached out and stroked his neck feathers, finding the almost airy texture to be firmly enjoyable. You ran your fingers across his back, enjoying the warmth of the strange bird and taking comfort in it. He watched you the entire time, somehow looking both amused and suspicious.

You were mesmerized, stroking him continuously until he finally spread his wings to leap off V’s arm, taking a loop around the area before coming back.

“Alright, enough of your weird feather-fetish. Can we get moving, for crying out loud?” he complained loudly and you blushed again as V smirked, emerald eyes twinkling with enjoyment. A long moment passed before his gaze fell on Griffon.

“Scout ahead; we need to find a way up there, or a path around it,” he instructed the brazen avian, using his cane to point at the cliffside. Griffon flapped away, muttering under his breath about being a glorified set of binoculars combined with a plushie.

You sat on a nearby bench and pulled a bit of trail mix from your bag, holding out the package to V as an invitation. He smiled and joined you, taking a handful of the snack as he approached. He sat close to you and you held the bag between you so he could reach it easily. A thought occurred to you – you’d never heard V mention any foods he enjoyed.

“V, what’s your favorite food?” you queried between mouthfuls.

He swallowed and reached in for another handful before replying, “I honestly haven’t had the opportunity to try very many different dishes. I have not yet disliked a dish. Your stew had a wonderful flavor, easily my favorite so far.”

You beamed, unexpectedly warmed by his words. You reached for another handful of trail mix, but V’s hand was already in the bag. Your fingers collided in a flash of heat, both of you jerking back instinctively. You almost dropped the bag but managed to keep it in your grasp.

“My apologies,” V mumbled awkwardly, his face a little red.

_Is he… embarrassed?_

The idea seemed ludicrous at first; the ever-confident, always composed V, _embarrassed?_ By just a touch of your fingers? No way, impossible.  But as you watched his face his blush deepened, and he looked away awkwardly. A playful grin spread across your face at the realization.

_Payback time._

You felt a surge of confidence with the knowledge of his embarrassment and your heart fluttered as you casually leaned your head on his shoulder, hand reaching for more trail mix and bringing it to your mouth. He tensed but didn’t move away, his intricately tattooed shoulder warm under your cheek.

________________________________________ 

V

He stopped breathing for a moment when you lied your cheek on his shoulder. The contact of your fingers had been accidental, but _this…_

His heart thumped a galloping pace in his chest and a lightness passed through him. He felt almost dizzy at the sensations, the meaning of it all so frustratingly, _maddeningly_ unclear. This was the kind of contact he had never experienced as Vergil. The slow blossoming of his emotions was so utterly opposed to the few memories he had of asserting his power over women, the gradual growth of his affection a stark contrast to the quick conquests of his former life. Vergil had never even considered someone a friend; V had no context or history to draw upon to interpret your behavior.

_How does one know when they have made a friend?_

“Y/N…” he began softly, getting your attention. You let out a soft hum of acknowledgement and he licked his lips nervously before continuing on, determined. “Are we… _friends_?”

Suddenly your cheek was no longer on his shoulder and his soul cried out at the loss of contact. You faced him and he gauged your expression as best he could with his limited understanding. Your eyes looked confused, almost sad, mouth slightly ajar as you stared back at him.

“Of course we are, V. Why do you ask?” you responded, sounding almost hurt.

He swallowed uncertainly; difficulty admitting his weaknesses was a trait that he carried over from Vergil, it appeared. “I… don’t think I’ve had a friend before.”

Your expression softened and you leaned back on his shoulder again. Your hands set the almost empty bag of trail mix aside as you wrapped both arms around the limb you were leaning against. He felt an odd sensation; a mixture of pain and joy warring in his heart – loneliness being eased. He hadn’t even realized he had been so lonely. He cautiously leaned his own head down atop yours, smelling your hair. Through all the demon blood and dirt from your travels, he caught a gentle aroma that he didn’t not recognize.

_That must be her… how exquisite._

“Oh, V… that must have been hard. I consider myself lucky to have you as my friend, and I’m glad to be your first,” you whispered against his shoulder.

_How does she do that? How does she always say exactly what I didn’t even know I needed to hear?_

His eyes watered a little at your words and he responded with a tone so soft you had to strain to hear it.

“ ** _The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.”_**

His eyes closed; his body was finally able to relax as you held his arm gently, his mind cementing the moment in his memory. His eyes shot open a mere heartbeat later as he heard wingbeats getting closer.

“Griffon approaches,” he announced, lifting his head mournfully.

“Ah…” you responded, disentangling your arms from his. You stood, stretching beside him, and he quickly averted his eyes as the sight stirred something within him that he was not yet ready to face. He reached for his cane, standing as well as Griffon came into view, flapping occasionally as he coasted back to land on the bench the two of you had only just vacated.

“You want the good news or bad news first?” the demonic bird bagan, fluffing up his feathers. He didn’t wait for a response, plowing ahead almost in the same breath. “So there’s a way up a few miles that way, but there’s at least four groups of demons in the way. I didn’t go in any buildings so you _might_ be able to avoid some of it, but a couple of em looked like they could murder us with their pinky fingers!”

V sighed heavily. “That may take us the rest of the day to get through if we end up fighting. We’ll have to try subtlety.”

“Try not to die,” Griffon quipped as V lifted his arm, summoning the bird back within his tattoos. He cursed, frustrated and doubting you two would make it through without being detected.

He looked up at the Qlipoth, centering his mind on the task at hand. He glanced back at you to see you digging in your pack for something.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he asked you with a raised eyebrow.

You pulled out a pack of sticky bandages, smiling triumphantly.

“V, sit down and take off your sandals. I’ll need your cane, too,” you ordered him, already walking back to the bench. He obeyed, curiosity prickling his mind as he removed his sandals, carefully handing them to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite moments... hope you guys enjoyed it.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, leaving kudos and for commenting. I so love it when I get the chance to read a few words on my work, please don't be shy!
> 
> Next chapter - what is Reader planning?


	4. The Silence of Subtlety Pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Part 1 of 2, hence it being much shorter than usual. Date of most recent update 7/30/2019 :D

Upon the usage of the word subtlety, the gears in your mind went to work. The realization that V’s sandals would be a problem took no great leap of deduction; with every step, there was an audible slap of the sole hitting pavement. The cane… _that_ would be difficult. How to muffle the sharp _clack_ that accompanied its every impact? A rough idea was taking shape, but you would need to examine the cane up close to refine it.

You took his sandals, and he watched you with a curious expression as you wrapped a layer of soft bandage around the soles of them, checking their traction every few revolutions. With a smile, you handed them back and he gave you his cane hesitantly. Looking into his emerald eyes, you saw how difficult it was for him to surrender his only physical weapon to you.

“I won’t damage it, I promise.”

His hand relaxed, allowing you to take the cane. He watched you intently as you examined one of his most prized possessions.

You marveled at the craftsmanship – the cane was beautiful. The handle glinted in the sunlight as you held it close to your eyes. The part he rested his weight on was smooth, almost polished through usage, the silver warm in your hand from his palms. A pattern of geometric indentations extended down from the handle, blending a few inches below the joint to form the sharp stake he used as both a walking aid and a deadly weapon.

“Do you use the cane itself to summon or is it all from you?” you asked, gears still turning in your mind.

“I don’t need the cane to summon, only to walk. Sometimes.”

“I’m going to make you a removable sheath for it, so if we run into trouble you can still do your thing. I need to go grab a couple things,” you said, handing him back his cane and standing. You’d always appreciated Red Grave City’s attention to greenery, but you were even more thankful than usual as you spotted several bushes and a tree that should suit your needs.

The ground beneath the tree featured nothing of use, but a young branch looked promising. It was too high for you to reach and there weren’t any low enough branches for you to climb the tree, much to your frustration. You glanced at V where he watched you from across the courtyard and waved him over. He joined you quickly, his limp not troubling him much so far today.

“Yes?” he inquired.

“Can Shadow get that branch, the little skinny one? You see it?”

He nodded, flicking his arm out. Shadow appeared beside him in a storm of black and shifted into her now familiar spinning blade form to cut deeply into the trunk and fell the tree entirely. She landed lightly, shifting back to her panther form just as the tree creaked and began to fall toward you and V. He seized your hand and pulled you against his chest, gliding out of the tree’s path as it crashed to the ground. He held you close a moment longer, making you acutely aware of every breath he took as his chest rose and fell against you. He released you suddenly, and you almost clung to him to feel it just a moment longer.

You stepped away rapidly, eyes wide as you turned to the tree on the ground.

“Are you all secretly lumberjacks or do you and Nero just hate trees?”

V released out a bark of laughter and started walking back to the bench, Shadow following close behind him. You found the branch you spotted before without too much trouble, carefully bracing yourself against the trunk to snap it off. After a few tries you gave up, pouting in V’s direction as he chuckled at your efforts but sent Shadow to help you again.

That time her head was all that shifted, growing to the size of a large beach ball. The image of her enlarged head was a sharp contrast against her still normal-sized body.

_How does she not tip over from the weight imbalance? Maybe her mass stays the same?_

_Wait, out of all the weird shit I’ve seen lately, THAT’S what I’m thrown off by?_

_I’ve lost my mind._

You pulled your attention back to the now, focusing once again on Shadow as she leaned forward and snapped her powerful jaws around the branch you chose, easily separating it from the trunk. Her head returned to its normal size in a flash of black. She tilted it to the side, and you could almost hear her asking you a question.

“Yes, please stay for a moment. I might need your help again.”

She politely sat, exactly like a house cat. She started grooming her paws as you got to work on the branch. It had good strength, not too flexible. You smiled in satisfaction, carefully stripping the smaller nubs and sticks off the piece of wood you would use.

You picked up the long piece of wood and brought it over to where V waited, Shadow following you patiently. He smiled at you, already knowing what you needed and held the cane out to you. You laid it next to the branch on the ground and moved it around, trying to find the perfect length of wood to fit the intricate metal. Using your dagger, you made small marks into the branch to mark the final area.

“Shadow, can you please cut this area out for me?” you asked the huge panther, backing away so she had enough room. She bared her teeth in a strange approximation of a grin and shifted back into the bladed form, dashing across the wood repeatedly to slice it clean through for you. She morphed back and followed you up to the fresh-cut wood as you inspected it.

“Thanks, Shadow! That’s perfect!”

She let out a soft purr, closing her eyes. You reached over and gave her a few pats before she returned to sitting nearby. With the wood prepared, you gathered the other materials you’d need from your bag and got to work.

First, you wrapped the blade in medical tape, sticky side facing out. Next, you added a layer of bandages to insulate the blade from any scratching from the wood, covering the tip carefully. You affixed the wood and wrapped another layer around the blade, securing the wood within. You pulled the sheath off an inch to test it, and it moved well.

_Now for the final step._

You found a seam on your shirt and carefully picked at the threads with your fingernails. With the hem prepared, you called Shadow over and explained what you needed her to do. She held still, jaws wide open as you positioned the cloth over one of her lethally sharp bottom teeth. With your command, she closed her jaws a mere inch from your skin and left a perfect set of holes. You gave her another few pats before taking the fabric and ripping the bottom inch of your shirt off.

Shadow serves as a hole puncher on the sheath itself as well, leaving two holes on either side of it for you to thread the strip of fabric through. With the cane still tucked inside, you brought the sheathe back to the poet with a smile.

“I’ll need your help for this bit. I need you to hold your cane the way you would if you were walking while I add the handle,” you explained to him and he nodded pleasantly, positioning his hand with care on the handle of his strangely sheathed cane.

It took several long minutes of weaving the fabric around his hand, careful to leave a little wiggle room for his comfort, but you got the job done with a minimum of distraction ogling his lovely long fingers.

“Ok, try it.”

V gave his cane an experimental twirl. He smiled as the fabric handle easily glided around his hand. He tapped the end of the blade against the ground and you grinned as it made almost no noise. Finally, he wrapped his thumb around the handle under the strap and opened his fingers, releasing the strap entirely. He flicked his arm and the sheath went _flying_ , easily restoring his ability to finish demons off using the blade.

He turned to you with an incredulous grin on his handsome features.

“Ha _ha_! Nico, eat your _heart_ out!” you shouted, running up to him and without thinking wrapped him in a triumphant hug. The sound of his chuckle in your ear and his free arm wrapping around you brought you back to yourself, and you tried to step away but his arm held you in place.

You paused, then embraced him again, holding him close and feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath like before. Your elation from your success faded as you felt him rest his chin on top of your head like a shelf, and you lost yourself in the feeling that rose within you like the tide.

Your racing thoughts slowed, the muscles not required to stay standing went limp, and you turned your head to rest it fully against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat; powerful and steady. As you listened, it slowed from its racing tempo to a normal _thump-thump, thump-thump_. You felt an emotion you hadn’t experienced in many, many years – contentment.

After a moment his arm released you. He looked down at you with an inscrutable look adorning his features. You thought you saw a tear fall from his right eye but couldn’t be sure as his hair hid it from further observation.

_What in the world…?_

“Y/N… _thank you_ ,” he said, and you could tell he was referring to far more than the sheath. He took another step back, his sandals muffled as he visibly composed himself.

“We should go,” he reminded you and returned Shadow to his tattoos, the section she lived in darkening as she settled. You nodded, swallowing the mystified feeling his reaction to a simple hug had elicited within you. You quickly packed up the supplies you left out from your project, and together you set out, heading for the demon-infested area Griffon showed you as silently as possible.

_______________________________________________________________________ 

V

No one had hugged him since he was a child.

_No, no one has hugged_ **_Vergil_ ** _since he was a child. I have never_ **_been_ ** _a child. Therefore, I have never received a hug_ **_at all_ ** _._

It was a distinction he struggled to believe, but one he thought to himself anyway, hoping it was the truth. He didn’t want to return to that life of loneliness and lust for power. He wanted to be _better_ than that.

_It’s not my choice to make. My end is inevitable._

His steps were close to silent as he followed you, the quiet deafening in its loudness. The pair of you had left the campus and were now traveling through a long stretch of shops and restaurants, sandwich board signs scattered like a spilled bag of marbles. He read the signs and wondered what the food in the advertisements might taste like. A seafood bisque was his focus when a sound reached him, breaking the tense silence. He accompanied you as you ducked into the closest shop, the glass doors already shattered. He stretched his fingers, preparing to unsheathe his cane as you hid behind the registers.

Adrenaline rushed through him, making his heart beat faster and his mind process more of the environment. He saw the flimsy black tables and chairs spread through the little deli you and he had hidden within, an obstacle if fighting should break out. A foul smell filled the air, similar to rotting food. The scent would help hide the pair of you. Shadows covered much of the back of the shop, the electricity being gone from this area working in favor of the two forms hiding desperately.

He waited, bracing for battle as the sound grew closer. It sounded like metal dragging against asphalt and he carefully peeked one eye around the corner to assess the threat. A chilling sight greeted him; a massive demon, grotesque and putrid, dragging two monstrous blades behind it. He knew the pair of you could likely defeat it, but the delay and potential injuries were unacceptable. He ducked back down and waited as the sound slowly, _leisurely_ faded away, the demon moving on in its hunt for prey. It took far longer than he would’ve liked.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, adjusting his grip on his cane to a more comfortable position now that the threat had passed. The adrenaline faded, leaving him feeling weary from the extended period of being on guard and ready to fight for both your lives. The two of you silently exited the shop, continuing ever onward.

Not even a full block later, you signaled him to hide and once again you and V ducked into the nearest building with open doors, this time a tall apartment complex. He stayed in the shadows, leaning heavily on his cane as you took the risk of peeking through the glass from behind your hiding spot behind the wall next to the door. You jerked back and he could see the fear on your face as you pointed up to signal that you must go upstairs. He nodded, looking behind him to locate a method to ascend as you caught your breath again. There was a hallway around the corner and he met your eyes, signaling you to follow when he instructed you.

From his location in the shadows, he watched the street as a hulking behemoth waddled its way forward, a horde of Empusa surrounding it. Its armor clanked with every step, and as its foot began to fall he signaled you to move. You stepped quietly to the hallway, your sensible shoes nearly silent on the grimy tile. As the behemoth took another step, he forced his body to move despite its complaints and joined you.

You gave him a shaky smile as he limped around the corner and the pair of you stepped carefully down the hallway. There were cheap wooden doors on either side of the beige-walled hall; neither of you opened a single one. At the end of the hall was the sign for stairs, dimly illuminated with the light coming through the small window behind it. You and V took up positions on either side of the door as you opened it. The door squealed, and you froze, motionless as you both listened intently, both of you tense and waiting to spring into action.

_Nothing… we’ve been lucky so far. I hope our luck holds._

You held up your free hand, three fingers extended. He watched as you counted down and as the last finger fell, you flung the door wide, getting past all the squeals as quickly as possible. He nodded at you and stepped through the doorway, you just behind him. The blessedly carpeted stairwell gave you both an added layer of security. There was a miniscule window letting through just enough light to see with and he began to ascend, you following along.  The pair of you climbed three flights of stairs without incident, reaching the roof access.

This time, V opened the door; it was mercifully silent and after allowing himself a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight again he proceeded. The roof was huge, large gray boxes speckling it here and there marking ventilation shafts. Beneath his muffled steps the ground was filthy; the roof hadn’t received a visitor in some time. Once you were both on the rooftop, you risked a few words.

“What now?” you whispered softly as the pair of you crouched behind one of the gray boxes.

V looked over the nearby lip of the building, seeing the Empusa horde still foraging. There was plenty for them to feed on nearby; they wouldn’t be leaving soon. He clenched his teeth in frustration. An idea formed in his mind and he checked the neighboring roof’s height. It was a full story shorter than the building the two of you had climbed. He returned to you quickly, already preparing himself for what came next.

“I’m summoning Griffon to carry us over,” he murmured close to your ear. Your eyes went wide at the idea.

“Has he ever done that before?”

Determination filled his emerald eyes as he shook his head. He focused his energy, trying to communicate with Griffon the need for silence, crossed his fingers and flicked his arm out, praying the loud-mouthed demon wouldn’t reveal them to the foes below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE thank you to everyone for reading, commenting, giving kudos, and in general sticking with me while I indulge my V obsession. You are all amazing!


	5. The Silence of Subtlety Pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date of most recent edit - 9/8/2019.

Black shards exploded from V without a sound and you crossed your fingers that Griffon would, _for once,_ stay quiet. It was stressful, not being able to do anything to change what happened next, but you tried to stay calm. The mouthy demon formed from the cloud of particles as silent as an owl and landed on the poet’s outstretched arm. The two whispered for a moment and you kept watch on the horde below until V waved you over.

“I’m going first. If I fall, do _not_ come after me. I _will_ come back for you,” he murmured.

Your skin prickled and your mouth went dry at the idea of waiting there alone, but you nodded anyway with a nervous swallow. The poet rested his hand on yours, a gesture of reassurance before he stepped away. Griffon lifted off with silent wing beats, circling the rooftop and getting into the perfect position.

V raised his left arm high and Griffon surged forward, a blur of blue feathers. Talons grasped flesh and the poet rose, his legs dangling as the demonic bird swooped over the gap. You couldn’t breathe, eyes glued to the man in black as he began to descend. It was a challenge to withhold a shout of triumph as V’s sandaled feet crossed the edge to hover over the next rooftop. The drop wasn’t far, and Griffon released the man’s arm to let him tumble the last few feet.

_Right. Now it’s my turn._

It was disorienting to not be able to hear Griffon flapping past you, but you tracked his path well enough with your eyes. He paused and you lifted both arms high, crossing your fingers for good luck. The blue demon darted toward you and grasped your biceps with his powerful claws, lifting you several feet into the air and making your stomach flip.

You kept your eyes closed as you made the crossing, waiting until it felt right to open them again. V was waiting for you, arms outstretched to cushion the last few feet should you fall. As much as being in his arms appealed to you, you tried to land on your own and staggered, barely able to maintain your balance as you returned to being bound by gravity.

The urge to howl your victory was powerful, replacing the all-encompassing fear of the last few moments and leaving you lightheaded. A wide smile was all you dared as you tiptoed over to join V and Griffon. The lean man smirked at the look on your face, a knowing twinkle in his emerald eyes. You shot a grateful nod at the mouthy demon and he dissolved into a cloud of black shards, drifting to the poet and sinking back into his flesh.

He pointed to a doorway and you frowned, risking a few quiet words. “Do we really want to go down after seeing what Griffon can do?”

“He cannot ferry us the whole way, unfortunately. It would exhaust us both,” he replied, his tone as low as your own as he opened the door. You nodded, heart sinking in disappointment as you followed him through.

The second building was virtually identical to the first, save for a few key differences. First, the front entrance was blocked by massive hunks of rubble. Second, it was pitch black. A tense few minutes passed as you and V shuffled around, feeling the walls in hopes of finding a way out.

_I hope I don’t find a demon instead!_

Fortunately for your nerves, you wrapped your hands around a cold knob a heartbeat later. V wasn’t far and easily heard your stage whisper, joining you a moment later.

You held your breath and opened the door, praying it wouldn’t squeak. This time, you were lucky and it opened soundlessly onto a cramped alley, stuffed with trash bins and bits of detritus. With a final glance back, you left the Empusa horde and the Behemoth to their foraging.

_That wasn’t so bad!_

The next several blocks passed in much the same manner of sneaking and choosing the right moment when your foes were looking elsewhere. It was draining, to be in such a constant state of high alert, but necessary.

The lack of conversation wore on you, too. Normally you’d banter with V and Griffon to keep your mind fresh, keep it focused on something other than the dire situation, but not today. You missed chatting and joking with them, but now was not the time.

You sighed under your breath. What you wouldn’t give for ten minutes without demons…

An angry snarl interrupted your musings and you stepped back hastily to hide behind a convenient dumpster. The poet joined you a heartbeat later and peeked over the metal container, his expression turning grim at the sight that met his gaze.

“Empusa Queen, and a group of hatchlings. They’re feeding, so we may be able to sneak past unnoticed.”

You nodded and waited for him to signal when to move, squatting with coiled and ready muscles for what felt like an age. You counted the seconds to pass the time, hitting over one thousand before losing your patience. Would that damned thing _ever_ turn around?

V’s hand sliced through the air near your head; almost ready. You tensed you body and waited, eyes locked on his tattooed fingers. At last, he closed his digits into a fist – time to move!

Though the alley was only twenty feet across, it seemed to stretch on for miles as you scurried by. The poet was a few steps behind you, barely able to keep up. The instant you reached cover, you turned back to tug him beside you. The two of you battled your panting into quiet rasps, listening for any signs the Queen heard you.

Nothing. All was still.

You grinned at the man in black and helped him rise, already focused on crossing the next block. Ahead, a used car lot stretched out, many of the vehicles damaged already. Good cover, at least. You shook the weariness away and ventured forth, hiding behind a new car every few feet alongside the poet. Halfway through, you found trouble.

Two Caina, prowling the aisle less than ten feet away. You were just about to duck behind the next car when one of them turned, spotting you instantly and growling.

_Fuck!_

You dodged to the left as its scythe came down, drawing your dagger. It snarled and prepared to strike again, heaving its weapon high. Nero’s training flashed in your mind and you crouched, performing a small and unskilled somersault to cross between its widely spread legs. With its back to you, it was slightly less terrifying to stand and thrust the blade deep into the base of its head.  Its flesh turned gray and it dissolved into nothingness as you ripped your blade free.

A few feet away, V held the other Caina against the ground, its weapon lying a dozen feet away as he strangled it with his cane. You darted over to help and sank your dagger into its eye socket with a disgusting squelch.

He grunted, relying heavily on his cane as he stood tall once more, disdain on his features as he watched the last few flakes of the Caina float away in the breeze.  Dark circles lied under his emerald eyes, a dull sheen of exhaustion tinting the normally expressive orbs. You imagined you looked just as bad, judging by how heavy your skull felt.

_I’d kill for a nap…_

Yet you shoved aside the exhaustion and pressed on. It was clear you couldn’t keep up this pace much longer by the way your eyes slid over more and more details, but you forced your flagging steps to continue anyway.

Thankfully, the rest of the car lot passed uneventfully, and you entered a small office park. It was rather plain, grey stone buildings and a few courtyards sprinkled between them. The line of sight was decent enough and your lips twitched into a half-hearted smile at the lack of possible sneak attacks. The sun was setting now, just starting to dip below the top floors of the buildings nearby.

_We have to find shelter soon. We can’t stop here, it isn’t safe._

As if to emphasize your thoughts, an echoing clatter sent a surge of adrenaline through you and your eyes scanned the area for whatever was on its way to murder you. Your hands were shaking, bracing for the worst as you found nothing. An invisibly demon? Was that a thing?

Then you saw V.

He had collapsed in a heap on the pavement. His eyes were closed, the movement of his chest shallow. You darted to his side and checked his pulse, grasping his slim wrist and counting. A bit fast, but not likely to have caused his fall.

“V? Can you hear me?” you whispered near his ear.

His weary eyes found yours slowly, blinking to focus. He nodded and let out a grunt, relying on his cane to help him rise. You took his free hand and lifted, so mentally wiped out you didn’t even notice when he stroked your palm before letting go.

**\---V---**

_We must keep going. There’s too much demon activity to stop here. Keep moving._

V’s mind was in a fog. His limbs were heavy, as if weights were tied on and he had to drag them on top of his own body weight. Whenever he moved his head, his vision spun and it took precious seconds for coherence to return. He demanded another ten steps from his weary legs, then another ten, and now another. All he needed to do was keep moving, that’s all.

He wasn’t unfamiliar with battle fatigue; the ache of exhaustion that came immediately after an adrenaline rush was a regular occurrence in his past. He knew how to set it aside and keep going when necessary. How to reason his body into wakefulness.

But this was different. Never had he felt it so strongly. He knew it was partially because of the sheer number of instances that flushed his system with the fight-or-flight instinct, but could it also be related to his lack of a complete soul?

It didn’t matter. All that mattered was reaching a place to rest. Both of you needed a chance to sleep and reset. Only determination and fear remained in the tank, and it wouldn’t last forever.

He closed his eyes, indulging in a moments respite and he tumbled to the ground as his foot caught on a tiny piece of brickwork.

_Again? Pathetic. Get up._

Warm fingers pressed against his wrist and he grimaced. How embarrassing, to need help just to _stand_. He should be stronger than this, should be able to withstand the exhaustion. What a disgrace he was.

Your voice echoed by his ear, asking if he could hear you. He managed a nod and put all his weight on his cane, grunting as he tried to stand. Your hand took his and heaved and his mind registered gratitude.

Not once had you complained or asked to stop. You understood how dangerous it would be to tarry here, when the two of you were surrounded by demons on all sides. If you drew too much attention, the horde would close in like a tightening noose. You knew it may cost you your life to be here, but still you stayed.

_I’m glad she’s with me._

Thinking of your courage and resilience gave him a much-needed boost of energy. He sent a filament of energy to Griffon and twitched his fingers, calling the mouthy bird forth from his body in a swirl of black shards.

“How much farther?” he rasped.

The bird gave him a sympathetic look and flapped, rising until he had a decent view. He circled for a moment before diving down to rejoin you, hovering near his elbow.

“Maybe another ten minutes? It’s close,” the normally jovial bird said.

“Any demons?”

“Yeah, tons. Take the first right, then a left at a bookstore. Should be clear from there.”

The poet nodded and released his hold on Griffon, letting the swirling cloud settle back into his skin. He sighed in resignation and stepped forward, only to stumble yet again and fall to his knees. A frustrated grunt escaped his lips and you came to his side with an outstretched hand. It pained him to admit his weakness, but he had no choice.

Instead of simply pulling him to his feet, you hauled his left arm over your shoulder, taking most of his weight. You wrapped your right arm around his waist for added support and together, the two of you closed the final quarter mile to find the way up Griffon spotted hours ago – a firetruck, ladder extended in a sixty degree angle as if someone used it to ascend the cliff already. V groaned, struggling to imagine himself making it up the ladder in his pathetic state.

**\---Reader---**

Your thoughts mirrored the poet’s, easily realizing the same fact the moment you saw the truck. He was going to need all the help you could offer. Also, maybe a miracle. When you reached the bumper, you gently set V down and handed him a bottle of water, joining him on the ground with one of your own a beat later. You guzzled the fluid greedily, slurping like it was the nectar of the gods.

“We’re so close. I can see a place to rest up there, all we have to do is climb this damned thing. We’ve made it this far, we can’t stop now,” you urged him.

You had no clue if there was a safe spot above to rest, but staying there wasn’t an option. Demons were everywhere, hordes searching for more human blood. If you rested there, they _would_ find you and you _would_ die. You knew it in the depths of your soul.

V took another sip of his water and nodded. He rubbed his eyes and looked at you, grim resolve etched into every feature on his face.

“I’ll make it,” he said. There was a long moment of silence as you both tried to find the energy to stand, preparing for the final leg of the day’s journey.

“You’re going first,” you said. If you went first and he fell, you’d only have to go back to get him anyway. “Can you carry your cane?”

He smirked and reached for his belt, unbuckling it and looping it through the handle you added to the sheathe. In seconds, he had the thin leather strap cinched again and looked back to find you staring at his waist, thoughts locked on how nimbly his elegant fingers released it. You couldn’t even summon the energy to care that he caught you staring and instead shook yourself, standing up to help him to his feet.

You pulled him up with both hands, using your body weight as leverage and leading him to a set of steps you spotted on the way over. With a white-knuckled grip, he ascended to grasp the lowest rung of the ladder itself.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered.

Every movement he made was careful, deliberate. As if he had to think about it beforehand. Once he was high enough, you began your own ascent. If he did slip, hopefully you’d be able to catch him before it was too late.

The angle of the ladder was brutal, barely enough for you two to rest your weight upon it as you climbed. The poet only lost his footing once about halfway up, but he clung on long enough to recover and narrowly avoid disaster. You pushed your own exhaustion aside, focused solely on ensuring he made it to the top.

“We’re almost there, just a little bit further,” you called out wearily.

Even though you couldn’t see around the black-clad man above, you knew you were nearing the top based on how far below you the ground was. You were so close, after _such_ a tiring day…

“It doesn’t reach the top.”

_What? I must’ve misheard him._

“There’s another ten feet and I’m on the last rung.”

You almost started crying, but your despair turned to anger in a flash like a lit match in a puddle of gasoline.

_Are you fucking kidding me? Are you FUCKING kidding me?!_

A deep growl vibrated in your throat, overcome by rage that after everything you dealt with already you were stopped by ten… _goddamn… FEET._

“No. No, no, no, don’t you fucking give up on me! Not after the day we’ve had. I don’t care if I have to carry you to Urizen after tonight; you get Griffon out here right now or I’ll _tickle the bottom of your feet until you cry!”_

You didn’t even know if the man was ticklish, but it was the only thing you could think of to do. From that angle, you couldn’t reach any other part of his body; you couldn’t carry him, and he couldn’t do anything to stop you from reaching up and brushing your hand over his heel in warning. His foot jerked away in response and he made a sound of surprise.

_Wait. Is he actually ticklish?!_

You dragged a single fingernail against the arch of his other foot and heard him laughing as he retreated again.

_Oh my gosh, he’s ticklish!_

_That’s adorable!_

“Mercy, have mercy!” he gasped, extending one arm overhead. A black cloud lifted from his skin and reformed into a familiar avian shape.

“What fresh Hell have you two gotten us into now?”

“Can you carry us the last few feet? Please?” you begged the mouthy demon.

He sighed and glanced around, taking in the scene. Hordes of Empusa and Caina were foraging less than a block away, closing in fast. In the state you and V were in, you wouldn’t last the night if you didn’t make it over the cliff. You were out of options and Griffon knew it.

“Fine, but you _owe_ me!”

He flapped into position and wrapped his lethal talons around the poet’s arm, grunting as he took on the extra weight. It proved too much and they began to fall, dipping down several feet as Griffon struggled.

“Ya gotta give me a hand, here!”

The poet reached out in desperation, searching for something, _anything_ to pull himself up by. His fingers scrabbled against dirt for a beat as the bird grunted, but finally he grabbed hold of a length of rebar and steadied himself on the sturdy metal. The reduced weight allowed Griffon to rise by several feet, and just as he reached his limit V pushed against the bar with all his might.

The momentum from his efforts brought them a yard higher to the lip of the ridge. Your companion reached out again, finding a chunk of asphalt protruding from the cracked earth and lifting once more. Blue wings flapped hard enough to dislodge a wave of granules and you turned away to protect your eyes from the ensuing downpour.

_Come on, just a little higher!_

When it was safe to look, you saw V’s hips level with the cliff. Griffon dragged him forward and let go, leaving the poet’s legs to dangle of the edge for a terrifying moment. The beat of your heart stopped in its tracks as he hung, only daring to resume once he pulled himself forward to safety. You released a sigh of relief and looked for Griffon, expecting him to be on his way to bring you up as well.

The bird was nowhere to be seen.

You waited, hopeful that he’d return, but after twenty minutes you were forced to admit the poet must have passed out. The bottom half of his calves still hung over the edge and you knew he was completely exposed. Vulnerable.

Helpless.

_Fuck. I HAVE to find a way up there. There’s only one option – I have to climb._

You scrambled to the top of the ladder, taking the same position V held for so long and stared at the cliffside. The shadows were growing by the minute as the sun set; you needed to hurry or you’d have no chance at all. A few bits of rebar caught your eye, along with a root and a pair of pipes. A well-positioned rock and an internet cable rounded out your route. You didn’t spot any sparks, so it looked safe enough to use.

With a deep breath you reached for the first handhold – the same piece of rebar V used. You gave it a sharp tug to test its stability and as you expected, it didn’t budge a millimeter. A broken pipe to your left was the next step; it must’ve been cracked somewhere down the line; it was dry as a bone. Another tug to test it and you swallowed nervously.

_If I fuck this up, I’m dead. If I do nothing, I’m dead, and so is V. I have no choice._

There was no point putting it off. You lifted your feet to rest on the next rung one by one, hand clenched on the improvised holds. Sweat saturated your palms and you paused to calm your racing heart before reaching for the next hold, a rock sticking partially out from the dirt.

It lacked any dips or ridges for you to utilize, but you had no other options. You gritted your teeth and pressed your palm against the top of the damned thing, checking its ability to take your weight before continuing. It held, and you took a deep breath as you brought your left leg to the final rung, right leg a beat behind.

For a moment your balance faltered. You gripped the pipe in your left hand with everything you had, barely able to hold on as your stomach dropped in terror. Death was watching you, waiting for his moment to strike, but you refused to let him take you without a fight and tenaciously found your balance. Once you were stable again, you dragged each palm over the dirt in turn, using the earth to soak up the sweat and oils to help aid your grip.

_That was too close. Got to be careful._

The lengthening shadows reminded you there was no time to waste and you focused on the next hold – the tree root. You checked your balance, moving your core from its slightly curved position as you extended your left hand toward the root. Your right hand heaved against the rock, legs pushing on the ladder and you grasped the root, giving it a forceful tug before you dared to relax.

_Now for the legs._

You looked down to remind yourself where the first hunk of rebar was, shifting your body to see in the low light. It was right where you needed it; you planned your route well. With a smug smile you lifted your right leg to the metal that served both you and the poet so well, repositioning your foot in preparation for the next motion.

Your left leg left the safety of the ladder and moved to the first pipe, easily sliding inside. In the rhythm now, you shifted again to extend your right hand, moving from the damnable rock to another pipe. You cursed as you felt the fluid within, holding tight to the root and scooping some fresh dirt into the gap to absorb what water it was able. On the second try, you found a decent grip and checked your stance before moving again.

 Your right foot lifted off the faithful rebar and came to rest on the same smooth rock from before. It was less difficult to use as a foothold, since you were pushing it to lift your body instead of pulling yourself up on its smooth surface.

_Only a few more moves to go…_

You released the root and extended your left side as far as it could go to reach another piece of rebar, this one slightly shorter than the first. It held when you tested it.

The next would be a difficult move – you had no idea if your left foot would find friction on the root. You thought of V, up there by himself, exposed and alone. It motivated you to push through your fear and lift your leg, eyes locked on the root through your left armpit. Your foot slid right off.

_Fuck!_

Blinking back tears, you reset your grip. The pipe and rebar in your hands were strong; good holds. You swung your left leg back and kicked the earthen wall above the root, desperate to give yourself more to work with. Clods of dirt fell, but not enough. You kicked again, but still your foot slid away.

Again, you kicked, this time with all your might. Your hand on the pipe slipped off and for a moment you were suspended by your left hand on rebar and right foot on that _goddamn rock._ The pounding of your heart was thunder on your ribs as you struggled to regain your grip, holding the rebar with all the strength you could muster.

The pipe was too slippery; your right hand found nothing else as you scraped the dirt. Instead, you shifted it to join your left on the rebar, barely finding room alongside your other hand. You gripped the metal harder than ever, tears spilling free after the close call. You looked up, checking how much farther you had to go.

_Two more feet. Just two more feet! You can do this, Y/N. You HAVE to do this._

You glanced down, trying to find a steady grip on the root by your left foot yet again. It finally cooperated and you nearly sagged in relief. Both of your hands rested on the same length of rebar, your right foot on that thrice damned rock and your left on the stubborn root. You took a moment to refresh the layer of dirt on each palm, having sweat through it during your panic moments before.

With a deep exhale, you pulled your right foot up, almost flush with your chest as you wedged it within the wet pipe. The slip resistant shoes from work helped you find a good angle for your toes and you thanked your lucky stars that you hadn’t yet abandoned them.

The cord was next, and you reached for it with your right arm, tugging it harshly to ensure its strength. It held and you let out a deep sigh, looking down to bring your left leg to join your left hand on the slim rebar. You shifted your left hand aside so it was easy to move and pushed with your right leg, extending your left arm to search for a grip on the pavement.

It took a few tries, but you discovered a jagged crack that didn’t shift when you pulled at it. You brought your right hand to join the left, slightly apart so if the asphalt failed you had at least one hand left. The edge of the street cut into your forearms, but you ignored it.

_So close now…_

Your right left vacated the wet pipe and joined your left on the rebar, hips turning to ease the transition. This was it, the moment of truth.

_Final move._

You took one last deep breath and murmured a prayer to any deity kind enough to listen, then pushed your legs down while pulling with your arms, sending every ounce of desperate strength and adrenaline into the motion. As your feet lifted off the rebar you turned to pull your hips against the lip of the road, handing suspended with all your weight resting on your locked elbows.

With a heavy grunt, you lifted your right leg as high as it could go, leaning left and swinging to follow the momentum. Eight of your nails broke as you tightened your hands, digging against the hard surface as you wedged your leg over the edge and rolled forward.

_I made it! Holy shit, I made it!_

For a long moment, you didn’t move. You were bloody and bruised, sobbing grateful tears as you gathered what little was left of your wits. The treacherous climb was over, you’d done it. How you managed, you might never know for sure, but what did it matter? Only the results counted. The stars above were just blinking into view as you pulled yourself to your hands and knees and crawled to the poet. Sure enough, he was unconscious.

“V? Hey, wake up. Please…” you begged, kneeling next to his face. You stroked his cheekbone with trembling fingers, touched his hair and tugged at his hands, _anything_ to get him to wake up. Yet he didn’t stir.

_Damnit, V… you owe me._

You stood and sighed, leaning over his still form and hefting him into a fireman’s carry. Even his light body was almost too much for your weary body and you came close to collapsing but found your footing. You carried him to the nearest structure, not bothering to look for anything more suitable than the library. There was no way you’d make it.

A solid kick revealed the doors were locked and you cursed, stepping back to set the poet down with one hand wrapped around his skull protectively. The nearest window shattered with little effort and you stepped through to unlock the doors. Every fiber of your body was aching as you tried to lift V again, but your strength failed at last.

Another few tears leaked past your lashes and you gripped his wrists, exhausted beyond all reason as you dragged him inside with a loud grunt. You closed the door and arranged his limbs so he’d be more comfortable, then lied beside him and closed your eyes. Within seconds, you sank into the blessed peace of oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that was INTENSE! Here's a picture I found while researching road construction, showing what's underneath a street in NYC. https://static01.nyt.com/images/2016/08/10/nyregion/nyc101-02/nyc101-02-master1050-v2.jpg
> 
> Also, if any of you have not had the SUPREME pleasure of reading it yet, I highly recommend SpiritChilde's Ebony and Ivory. It's what inspired me to start writing this and it is so, SO good!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, commenting, etc! Every time I see the email notifying me of a new comment it makes my day! 
> 
> Next time - some serious fluff, and V being a total sweetheart.


	6. The Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff alert! This is easily one of my favorite chapters so far. Featuring V being clueless and Reader being clever. Don't worry, V gets his moment soon too. (Poor guy)

May 28th, 12:36 am

V

V wakes up with a start, his awareness returning to him instantly. His eyes shoot open to see a faded blue wall and horribly patterned carpet. He doesn’t see you and panics; the last thing he remembers is being dropped by Griffon and sending the bird to get you.

_How did I get here? Did Griffon reach Y/N?_

He turns around and the tension leaves his body as he spots you lying on the floor on his other side. You look like you’ve been through hell, fingertips and forearms bloody, dirt caked across your body, tracks of tears lining your cheeks.

_Did Y/N… **climb** the last ten feet?_

The second he thinks it he knows it’s the truth. His stomach roils with guilt and shame, knowing you only had to do it because of him, because of his _weakness_. He had failed you, again. And you had probably saved his life by bringing him inside. He stands up carefully, leaning heavily on his cane, and looks around to see what he can do to help you. There’s a bathroom to his left, a set of double doors in front of him. He steps to the doors, opening one slowly just in case. He doesn’t hear any demons and opens the door further to look beyond it.

Massive shelves span the cavernous room, full to bursting with books of all shapes and sizes. There’s a desk before him on the right and some computers to the side, groupings of comfortable looking leather sitting chairs scattered around, and posters on the walls showing smiling children reading books encouraging them to " _Read_!".

_I’m in a library._

Even as Vergil, he had loved libraries. He wanted to peruse the shelves, hands practically itching to feel the spines of the volumes of knowledge, but that would have to wait until you were taken care of. He returns to your side, checking on you briefly. You seem to just be sleeping, so he goes into the bathroom and wets some paper towels. He sits by your side and gently wipes away the dirt and blood as best he can.

_Marginally better._

Next, he summons Griffon, the bird appearing in a burst of black shards and immediately yelling at him.

“V! What the fuck, man? One second, I was headed to grab Y/N, the next POOF! What the hell happened? Is Y/N okay?” he bird asks anxiously, clearly concerned about you.

“I think I lost consciousness. Y/N appears to have climbed the last ten feet and carried me here to safety. I don’t know where she found the strength, but she saved my life,” V replies seriously. “She’s over here, and I need your help. Can you lift her legs while I take her arms? I want to bring her inside the library.”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that. Jeez, she _really_ went through the ringer for ya…” Griffon says, making V’s stomach churn again in shame as the demonic bird takes your ankles in his talons. V lifts your torso, hands gripping under your armpits and the pair of them move together to bring you to one of the sitting chairs V had spotted. They settle your sleeping form into the leather chair easily.

“Griffon, can you go look for her bag? I didn’t see it before,” V asks as he takes a seat beside you in an identical chair. It’s so comfortable he gasps slightly, only then realizing the exhaustion tugging at his limbs, begging him to rest. He roughly pushes it away, ignoring it.

“On it, pal!” the bird caws and flies back to the entryway. In the meantime, V uses more paper towels and washes another fraction of the dirt off you, respectfully avoiding any areas he deems inappropriate to touch without your express consent. His heart is choking him as he imagines what you had to do to get here. He starts to shake, hoping you’ll forgive him for failing you.

“…V?” he hears you mumble.

“I’m here, I’m fine,” he responds gently.

“Damn straight you are. You’re _welcome_ , by the way,” you groan back, not bothering to open your eyes.

“I know, and I cannot thank you enough. You saved my life, and thoroughly risked your own to do it.”

“Heh, guess we’re even then. You saved my life the day we met,” you remind him with a rueful chuckle. It does little to assuage his guilt, but he smiles at you anyway.

“Rest, Y/N. It’s my turn to take care of you now,” he murmurs gently and you settle into the chair, easily falling back into slumber. He hears Griffon returning but his eyes don’t leave your face, still wrestling with his inner turmoil as you rest peacefully after your ordeal.

_What if she had fallen? She could have **died** , took the risk of dying, for **me**. Why? Why would a person **do** that?_

“Here’s the bag, Shakespeare,” his summoned friend says, interrupting his musings as he drops your bag at V’s feet. He lands on another chair nearby, his demonic gaze watching you rest.

V reaches down to pick up your bag, grunting slightly as his still-sore body complains loudly. Pulling it into his lap, he starts digging through it. Unfamiliar with the items within, it takes him a long time to find what he thinks are bandages. He also pulls out a bottle of water and a few granola bars, setting them on the table next to you for when you next wake up.

He struggles to unwrap the roll of sticky fiber, mind remembering the way you crafted his cane’s sheath with a small smile. Your hands had been so sure, so practiced. He fills his thoughts with memories of you, all the moments of cunning and strength you’ve shared with him in your travels so far.

The look on your face after you’d killed your first demon with nothing but a frying pan. The way you had chosen to stay, even after his warning that you might not survive. How you had trusted him to guide you past the Empusa Queen, steps never faltering as he had signaled you to run. How you had pushed him up that ladder with _tickles_.

“ ** _He sits down with holy fears, and waters the ground with tears: Then humility takes its root, underneath his foot…_** ” he recites thoughtfully.

_Y/N is so much stronger than I will ever have the chance to become. If only I had more time._

He reaches for your arm, about to wrap the sticky bandage over your scraped forearms when Griffon speaks up.

“Uh, V, won’t that stuff hurt?” the bird inquires, stopping his hands as he thinks about it.

“Ah… yes, I suppose it would,” he replies softly.

He sets the bandage down carefully and looks through your bag once more, digging through the tubes of ointment and bottles of fluids to reach a stack of individually wrapped parcels. He reads the label.

“Gauze patch…”

He glances at Griffon and they both shrug. He tears the wrapping off, finding a soft patch of cloth within.

_Much better._

He lays the patch on your scrapes gently, hoping he isn’t making it worse through his clumsy attempts at first aid. He takes up the sticky bandage again and slowly wraps it over the patch, cursing each time it sticks to itself or the patch shifts away from your wound as he pulls the fibers tight. After several minutes, he manages to create a lopsided wrapping, the gauze hopefully still covering the actual wound beneath it. He holds the roll in his hands and tries to tear it by hand to no avail; the fibers are too strong.

“Griffon, if you would…” he says in a resigned tone, and the brazen bird hops over like a crow. He leans close to your poorly wrapped arm and snaps his sharp beak through the bandages.

“You _suck_ at this, V,” he says rudely and V nods, already brutally aware of his shortcomings.

They repeat the entire process on your other scraped forearm, and the second wrapping is slightly less haphazard. Griffon cuts the bandage and V puts the roll to the side.

“I don’t know what else I can do,” he mumbles sadly.

“Then rest, dumbshit,” Griffon tells him, half with caring and half with frustration. V nods, releasing his hold on the beautiful bird, and Griffon dissolves into a cloud of glittering black shards. They rush at him and sink into his skin, marking him with Griffon’s presence. He leans back in the chair beside you with a sigh.

_My failures keep growing. What if I cannot reach Urizen? What if I fail in what matters most?_

He falls asleep with that thought into a troubled sleep.

________________

May 28th, 4:27 pm

You awaken slowly, blinking open your crusty eyes with a low moan. You turn your head at the sound of cloth on leather and see V already leaning toward you, a wall made almost entirely of glass behind him letting the sunlight through. A stack of books lies next to him, one in his hands even as his emerald eyes find yours. He smiles at you gently.

“Good afternoon, Y/N. How do you feel?” he asks you kindly.

You take a moment before answering. _Assess the damage._ Your exhaustion has faded significantly, down to a low current of mild sleepiness. Your limbs are sore all over, muscles not used to climbing _screaming_ at the abuse they endured the night before. Your stomach growls loudly, announcing its emptiness.

You flush slightly as you speak, “Sore and hungry, but better. How about you? You rested at least a _little_ , right?”

You glance meaningfully at the stack of books on the table by his elbow and he has the grace to look embarrassed at your questioning tone. He clears his throat, holding out a granola bar to you. You take it.

“Yes, I rested for a bit. I thought some reading would help rejuvenate my spirit,” he replies.

You raise an eyebrow and unwrap your snack, the first bite of crunchy goodness making your mouth flood. _When’s the last time I ate?_ You can’t remember. You devour the bar in another few bites and accept the water bottle V holds out to you, gulping it down quickly. As you lower the bottle you finally notice the bandages on your forearms, a mediocre but passable effort. You glance at V and he blushes.

“I… dressed your wounds as best I could. I apologize for my clumsy efforts,” he mumbles, looking away from your eyes. You smile, letting out a low chuckle.

“V, why on _Earth_ are you apologizing for taking care of me? _Thank you,_ ” you reach out and touch his shoulder as you speak, wanting to feel his skin. His eyes shoot to yours at your touch, holding your gaze as you speak. A smile twitches the corners of his mouth upwards, and he puts his hand atop yours on his shoulder.

“You’re most welcome,” he says softly, emerald gaze seeming to bore into your very soul. The air between you almost crackles with energy.

You look away first, suddenly acutely aware of the dirt and grime covering your body. It looks like V washed some of it off, but he politely didn’t go anywhere near your hips or thighs. You stand, withdrawing your hand from beneath his.

“I’m going to go clean up a bit,” you tell him and walk toward what you think leads to the entryway, easily finding the restrooms near the front door. You duck into the restroom and stare at yourself in the mirror.

Your hair is greasier than you’ve ever seen it, hanging limply around your face. Your shirt, with the bottom inch of its hem missing, is stained brown and red from the dirt and blood covering it. Your bandaged arms aren’t much cleaner. Looking down at your legs, you see more of the same; blood and dirt so thick your skin feels stiff. Your shoes match the rest of you, their previously white fabric now ruined.

The faucet spews water out when you test it and the soap dispensers are full enough. You strip everything off, locking the door almost as an afterthought. You plug the sink and wait for it to fill, adding plenty of soap. You fill a second sink with just water and get started, plunging your filthy clothes into the soapy water and scrubbing at them with what remains of your fingernails until the water turns nearly black. You move your clothes to the other sink, rinsing them as best you can as the first sink drains. You repeat the process a few times, refilling the sinks each time until you’re satisfied.

You wring out your clothing and bring it to the hand dryer mounted on the wall, taking each piece and holding it under the warm jet of air until its dry. It takes quite a long time, especially on your pants and shoes, but eventually you finish.

_Now, for my body._

You fill the sink once again and remove V’s bandages to get the skin underneath scrubbed as well. You take what an old friend would call a “hoe bath”, splashing water against your torso with your hands and scrubbing as best you can. Your arms and legs are easier, able to be brought directly under the running water to scrub and rinse. You pay special attention to your armpits; you sweat through your deodorant ages ago. You use paper towels to dry off and dress, unlocking the door and returning to V feeling like a new person.

He’s still sitting where you left him, reading a think volume that seems to hold yet more poetry. He looks up as you approach, and his eyes widen slightly.

“How on _E_ _arth_ did you manage to get that clean?” he inquires, brow furrowed.

“The bathroom’s got soap, I splashed myself for a while and washed my clothes in the sink.” You tell him, and you glance at his own clothing. The black hides the grime better than your own clothing did but you can tell he’s almost as filthy as you were.

You blush as you continue, “Do you want me to wash your clothes too?”

He turns scarlet, taking a quick glance at the sorry state of his attire.

“I suppose that would be prudent…” he says slowly and you almost laugh at him.

“Alright, come on,” you say, beckoning him to follow you. “But you’re going to help me wash my hair as payment.”

“That seems fair,” he answers you, carefully marking the page he was on and setting the book at the top of the stack. He stands and follows you to the bathrooms.

“Go in there and take off anything you want me to wash. I’ll wait out here and you can hand me your stuff through the door,” you explain, cursing your cheeks for betraying you with a fierce blush.

He blushes too, and you feel a little better knowing he shares your embarrassment as he enters the men’s room. You wait by the door, trying not to imagine him undressing himself and failing spectacularly. You’re trying to imagine what kind of underwear he wears when the door cracks open just enough for a tattooed arm to reach out, holding a stack of fabric. You jump slightly as your inappropriate thoughts are interrupted by the very subject of them.

“Thanks,” you choke out as you take his clothing. His arm retreats without a sound and you stand there for a moment, your brain having to restart itself.  You mentally shake yourself and head back into the ladies’ restroom, setting V’s clothes on the counter and filling the sinks yet again. He’s given you his pants and his leather vest, and you immediately picture him waiting in the men's room in nothing but his underwear and sandals and the image both makes you giggle and excites you. You wash the pants easily enough, but the leather makes you pause.

_Doesn’t leather need to be cleaned a certain way? Somehow I doubt commercial hand soap is good for it…_

You decide to play it safe and use a wet paper towel to wipe it as clean as you can, not using a drop of soap. A few dry paper towels later and it’s barely damp. You set the vest aside to dry his pants on the vent. Finished, you drain the sinks and bring his clothes to the door of the men’s room and knock, waiting patiently for him to answer the door.

“That was fast,” he says as his arm reaches out blindly. You hook his clothes on his fingers and he withdraws. It takes him a fair amount of time to dress and come out, but when he does he looks almost as clean as the day you met.

_How the **hell** does his hair stay so damn clean?_

Baffled, you set the thought aside for now.

“Shall we wash your hair?” he asks mildly, and you smile, leading him into the ladies’ restroom. He blushes as he enters, as if entering the forbidden area with you embarrasses him.

You stand in front of the sink and bring the water to a comfortable temperature, then lean over carefully until your head is under the flow. V steps forward and starts gently rinsing your hair under the stream, his hands careful. He takes his time and your back starts to ache at leaning like this for so long as he gets a handful of soap, softly massaging it into your scalp. The feeling of his hands rubbing your scalp makes you forget the pain in your back, your mind focusing on the simple pleasure of his touch. He rubs tiny circles on the sides of your head and you let out a low moan of pleasure at the feeling.

His hands falter and you blush heavily, praising your lucky stars that your face is hidden. His fingers start moving again, making smooth strokes and you forget your embarrassment as he begins to rinse the soap away. You see the dirty water swirling at the bottom of the sink and watch it disappear down the drain happily. The suds get fewer and fewer until V pulls away.

“All finished. I’ll get some towels,” he informs you and takes a few steps away. He brings a stack of paper towels over and presses them into your dripping hair, absorbing the worst of the water. You stand up slowly, holding the towels in place, and walk over to the hand dryer. You partially dry your hair, running your fingers through it as you go. Once the dripping stops, you stand up straight again and look at V.

“Thanks for your help,” you warily say, remembering the moan and blushing again.

“It was my pleasure,” he replies with a roguish grin, eyes sparkling in amusement.

You turn your tomato colored face away from him, walking back to where you had last seen your bag. V follows you, taking a seat next to you and resuming his reading. You try to put his presence in the back of your mind, but its difficult. Your eyes are almost drawn to him; he looks so handsome with his nose in a book, brows furrowed and lips parted in concentration, elegant fingers occasionally turning the pages.

Your mind reflects on your interactions and impressions of the man. There’s no denying how physically attracted to him you are, and your deeper connection with the poet has been growing over the last few days considerably. His focus, his determination… the way he almost dances through battles as if there’s no danger of death… you know you never would have been able to get him here without his example. You never would have been able to make that climb for _anyone else_. The fact that it was _him_ that needed you made all the difference.

_This goes so far beyond the physical now… I think I’m starting to fall for him._

The realization makes your stomach flip, as if merely thinking the words would somehow alert him to the nature of your musings. You glance at him to find he hasn’t moved, still quietly reading the tome in his hands, and your anxiety settles.

It takes you twenty minutes to rewrap your arms, though normally it would only take ten.

You put the bandage roll away and stand. There’s still a little daylight left and you don’t want to waste it.

“Are you ready to go, V?” you ask him.

He almost mournfully closes the book without marking his place, setting it aside to stand. He stretches his long arms and his expression shifts to the focused, determined look he wears most of the time.

“I am,” he replies simply.

The two of you walk out the doors together, both sad to leave the library behind. It had been a nice respite from the chaos, and it felt incredible to be wearing clean clothes again. But as much as you wanted to linger, Urizen was still out there. You take one last look at the shelves of books and turn away, focusing your mind on the task at hand.

Once outside, V flicks his arm to the side and summons Griffon, his tattoos changing from near-black to become almost invisible.

“What’s on the agenda today, folks? More demon murder? More fighting for our lives?” the feathered fiend asks as he appears. He flies a few circles around you and V, stretching his wings happily.

“We need you to scout ahead and check for any demons that are beyond our skills to defeat,” V responds, indicating the direction you intend to travel. Griffon sighs, flaps twice and yells back at the pair of you as he departs.

“If I die it’s all your fault!”

You and V both shake your heads and start walking, following Griffon’s path from ground level. You cross the street and enter a small parking lot, a few lonesome cars still waiting for their drivers to return and claim them. You don’t waste energy talking, focused on traversing as much of the area as you can before what little daylight is left runs out. V seems to be thinking in the same vein, as he doesn’t speak either.

You travel in companionable silence for a short time, crossing the parking lot and walking past a fast food joint before Griffon returns.

“Faithful scout-bird on duty, ready to report!” he calls to you as he lands on V’s outstretched arm. You and V wait for him to continue and he does so almost without skipping a beat.

“It doesn’t look too bad, a couple groups of Caina and Empusa skulking around but no Queens or anything that I can see. Should be a pretty easy run,” he says and starts preening his feathers.

You sigh in relief; you knew another day like yesterday would have been too much to handle.

“Excellent,” V says as he steps forward, casually gesturing at Griffon and the beautiful bird vanishes in a cloud of black shards. You follow soon after him.

The next block is deserted, not a single demon bothers you as you pass a massive furniture store. It isn’t until you enter an industrial area that you spot them ahead, a group of four Empusa slurping at a puddle of what might be human remains. Your stomach churns at the thought, remembering that not everyone had been as lucky as you were and survived.

_This shouldn’t take long._

For a moment you grin at the change within you – the first Empusa you had ever seen had made you quake in fear, and now here you are, about to face four with total calm.

V's arm flicks out and Griffon dives forward in a whirlwind of dark flecks, slashing one Empusa with his talons, and the time for thinking is over. V flicks his arm to the side, bringing Shadow into existence beside him in a cloud of black shards. She roars defiance and leaps forward, slashing her claws against the same demon Griffon attacked. You turn your attention to the next foe, knowing V will clean up after his summoned friends.

You set your sights on the bug-like demon in front and to your right, pulling out the revolver and firing quickly. The single shot misses entirely, and you switch to your hammer and dagger, stashing the gun away in frustration. You dash at the Empusa, slashing furiously with your dagger and bringing your hammer in for a heavy blow to the head and the Empusa dies seconds later. You look around but V has already taken care of the other three, ending the battle before it even seemed to begin.

It isn’t until the streetlights flicker on that you realize how late it’s gotten.

“V, we should look for a place to stop for the night. Keep your eyes peeled,” you say, looking around yourself.

“Let’s continue a bit longer, we’ve almost reached a residential area.” He responds softly, and you nod. An actual bed would be heavenly. You press on, keeping your eyes open for the next threat. It doesn’t take long.

The familiar red webbing appears again as you turn a corner into a gas station. Instead of the usual Caina’s and Empusa’s, however, you’re faced with a trio of lizard like demons. They jump from one foot to the other, hopping forward in an odd loping pattern.

“Y/N, stay back!” V shouts, then snaps his fingers in a high arc and the black of his hair fades away into a stark white. You watch in amazement as a meteor descends onto the demons, striking all three as it hits ground. The meteor’s impact area bubbles, and the ground rises to form a vaguely humanoid shape. It’s huge, and you wonder how you and V can hope to overcome this new foe until he jumps onto its back, sinking his cane into its shoulder and seeming to steer it back into the enemies.

The massive creature swings its club-like fists at the lizards, hitting them repeatedly, and follows up with a well-placed laser. The path of the laser explodes a short time later, and all three enemies vanish into a cloud of black dust as V jumps off the huge creature. It puddles down soon after as the red webbing dissipates.

You stare at V, open mouthed, as his hair fades to black again. _Oh, that must be where that… **thing** comes from. His… hair._

He chuckles lightly, leaning heavily on his cane as he strides over to you.

“What… what _was_ that?” you finally choke out. Griffon flaps over to you, landing on a nearby mailbox as he answers.

“That, _girlie_ , was Nightmare. Pretty cool, eh?” the bird cackles at the look on your face before V points his cane at him, and he vanishes into V’s tattoos with Shadow following soon after.

V nonchalantly points to a nearby building, a hotel if you had to guess. There’s no sign still standing.

“Let’s take a look, perhaps there’s somewhere we can rest in there.” He murmurs quietly. You look closer at him, concerned. He looks exhausted. _Summoning Nightmare must be tiring… I hope he doesn’t have to do that too much tomorrow._

You nod, and the two of you proceed into the building. The front door opens easily, and inside you see the markings of a hotel as you’d guessed, the front desk and sitting area of the lobby a dead giveaway. You’re tempted to rest there until you see how much the ceiling has cracked, and you decide a more stable area might be wise. There must be a massive root under the building, as there’s several sections of the ground floor that have shifted by several feet, causing rubble to block the majority of the inner doors. Finally, you find a door that’s been left open, and inside find a tiny room decorated with the boring standard hotel aesthetic of trying not to offend any guests. The comforter on the single bed is drenched in blood, and you try not to think about the fate of the room’s previous occupant as you drag the sodden thing to the hallway, leaving only a top sheet on the bed. There’s no couch anywhere to be seen, and rubble is strewn across the floor. V begins clearing some room off, presumably thinking to sleep on the floor. _No, he needs to rest for real,_ you think before you take his hand, pulling him toward the bed.

"V, you need to rest as badly as I do. Come up here and share the bed with me," you say, blushing furiously. His eyes sparkle with humor as he nods, following you.

"Much appreciated, Y/N," he says, his voice like velvet again. _Did he know he was doing that?_ You flush slightly, and his lips twist into a familiar smirk. _Oh. He knows. Dammit._

You slide between the blankets, body celebrating the simple joy of sleeping on an actual bed as V lies down beside you, carefully facing away from you politely. You rest your head on one of the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as V settles in.

"Well... goodnight, V. Sweet dreams," you mumble. You drift off quickly, exhausted from the last two days. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this has taught me I do not have the patience to write slow burn properly. 
> 
> As always, thank you, thank you,THANK YOU for reading, commenting, leaving kudos and all such goodness. You are all feeding my soul with your attention. 
> 
> Next chapter - more traveling, but with more angst. And Griffon has the WORST timing!!


	7. The Consequences of Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fudge, 500 hits! I had hoped for maybe five, at best. I'm doing a ridiculous happy dance, lucky for you all you don't have to see it!
> 
> Onwards with the story!

May 28th, 8:13 am

You wake slowly as the sunlight hits your face. It’s the first warmth you’ve felt in hours – the night was mercilessly cold, and you and V had awkwardly maintained the distance between your bodies. Even as you had shivered and craved even having your back against his, you had resisted the urge to close the gap between you and touch him.

You sit up, stretching the kinks out of your tired body. V stirs behind you, yawning and leaning over to put his sandals back on. His hair is adorably tousled, and you almost reach out to straighten it but restrain yourself. Instead, you dig through your bag for a moment and toss him a granola bar, unwrapping another for yourself.

“Sorry, I don’t have anything hot,” you say apologetically.

“That’s quite alright, thank you,” the lean poet responds, unwrapping his own breakfast as he stands. The pair of you eat quickly, in a rush to keep moving. You take a moment to raid the mini fridge, finding a few fresh bottles of water and snacks and adding them to your pack. Then, you set out for another day of demon-killing. As you leave the hotel, you decide to ask V some questions, wanting to know more about this handsome mystery man you find yourself traveling with.

_And falling for…_

“So, V, I’ve been meaning to ask. Why do you recite poetry in battle? And why William Blake?” You’ve been wondering this since you first saw him fight. He pauses, and you admire the fact that he thinks before speaking. He’s a very deliberate sort of person, doesn’t waste energy if it can be avoided. You respect that, knowing how important it can be to have energy at the right time, the lesson having been driven home over the last few days.

“This book is a treasure from my youth. I recently rediscovered it while visiting my home, and I find that the words contained within bring me clarity. Purpose, even.” He smiles softly, looking at you through his hair as he walks beside you.

“A question in return – why did you choose to be a nurse?”

Now it’s your turn to pause, mind flashing back to the events that had shaped you. The sounds from your nightmares echo in your mind as you struggle to find the words to summarize your complicated past.

“I had a difficult time growing up. I made a mistake and ended up watching my best friend die. I blamed myself for a long time, for not being able to save her. It took a long time to accept that I couldn’t have done anything at the time. I wanted to never be in that position again, to never be helpless or useless again. Never have to sit back and watch someone _die_ again.”

You sigh wearily before continuing. “Of course, people still die in the emergency room. But now I can at least help save those who can still be saved.”

“Admirable. I’m sorry for the pain you’ve experienced, Y/N.” The way he says your name makes you look away quickly as your spine tingles and you hope he doesn’t notice your reaction. You think of another question to distract him.

“What’s Dante like?”

V chuckles lightly, stepping over a chunk of stone in his path. He extends a hand toward you, offering help to follow him. You pause but take his hand. Its soft, and fits in yours like a puzzle peice. You remember thinking something similar when you first met, when he dragged you to the van. Your heart jumps when he squeezes your fingers gently before dropping your hand.

“Dante is… quite a character. He’s reckless to be sure, but powerful enough to get away with it, at least until now. He’s easy to like but annoying to work with. Not much at teamwork, but that’s not _entirely_ his fault. He’s used to working alone after all. I imagine you’d like him,” he says with a smirk.

You take a moment to admire the architecture around you and calm your racing heart; the area you’re traversing today is mainly old-fashioned office buildings, but here and there a newer structure still stands proudly, unmarked by the passage of time. The newer steel and glass buildings contrast sharply with the older stone and brick structures surrounding them.

“My turn,” V continues, “What’s your favorite thing about living in Red Grave City?”

You smile widely, easily thinking of the answer.

“The Opera House. I’ve only seen the inside once, for an emergency call when I was working with an EMT crew. It’s so beautiful, right out of a storybook. I’d love to see an opera there someday, once this is over.”

V smiles gently at your words, and you struggle to think of another question as your heart beats like a hummingbird’s wings at the sight.

“Can I touch your hair?” you blurt out without thinking, immediately going red as he stares at you for a moment. “Sorry, i-it just looks so soft…”

He smirks, emerald eyes sparkling with mirth, but bends over slightly to give you better access to his hair. You reach out slowly, for a moment thinking he’s teasing you, but he holds completely still as you stroke his hair. _It’s softer than silk…_

________________

V

Your hand strokes his hair gently, cautiously. His eyes flutter closed at the sensation, his scalp tingling wherever your hand roams. He can feel your body next to his, heat emanating from you standing mere inches from him.

_This feels like heaven._

He makes a soft sound of contentment as you run your fingers through his onyx strands once more before blushing profusely and stepping back, face redder than he’s ever seen it. A wild impulse rushes through his mind, reckless with the intoxication of your touch. He doesn’t hesitate and reaches out to grasp your wrist as it withdraws, pulling it to his lips for a soft kiss. He releases you quickly, unsure how his actions will be received, his heart feeling oddly light at his risky behavior, like it could sprout wings in his chest and take flight.

Your eyes are wide, a light blush still tinting your cheeks as your mouth drops open slightly. Another wild urge rushes through him, this time to kiss your mouth, but he holds back this time to cautiously watch your expression. Your blush deepens even further as he stares into your eyes, and your lips twitch upwards in a hesitant smile. He extends his hand to you and you glance at it for a split second before placing your own hand in his grasp. He resumes walking, your hand held in his, and smiles behind his hair.

________________

Your heart is thundering against your ribcage, a pace to match any thoroughbred racehorse. Your wrist still tingles where V’s careful lips touched it and a giddy smile crosses your face as you walk alongside him, holding his hand in your own.

“I take it my interest is welcomed, then?” he murmurs in a low tone that sends a powerful jolt dashing up your spine.

“Welcomed… and returned,” you say softly, giving his hand a squeeze. He stops walking, turning to face you. He gazes at you hungrily as the sunlight illuminates him in a soft glow.

_He looks like an angel._

He leans in just a few inches, leaving it up to you to close the gap between you. You’re about to do exactly that, heart still pounding furiously, when you see a smoking blade coming down to strike him. You jerk him down with you harshly as the blade comes down. It sinks into his shoulder but doesn’t do the damage it would have had you not seen it in time. V gasps in pain, crumpling to his knees as Griffon and Shadow erupt from his body in a furious tornado of black shards.

You jump in front of V, shielding him from further injury as Shadow shoots forward, a blur of black rage striking the hulking hunchbacked horror before you and knocking it ten feet away from you and the injured poet. It’s another new demon; a noose hangs from its throat, strange purple tentacles weaving in and out of its deformed torso. You draw your dagger and hammer, dropping into a defensive battle stance to keep V safe. You know his familiars can bring the demon down, then you can finish it off. You watch, waiting for the right moment, as Griffon shoots a multitude of tiny balls of lightning from his beak. He swoops forward, diving at the hideous creature and raking it with his talons as he passes.

Shadow shifts into a spinning blade and slices up the demon’s body, making it scream in anger or pain; you can’t tell which. _I hope it’s pain._ She lands on the ground, swiping her claws at its knees viciously. It staggers, looking very close to death.

“Now, Y/N…” you hear V mutter, his wonderful voice muted by agony. You instantly run forward, strides covering the asphalt faster than you thought your body could move, lunging at the demon with all your weight behind you and sinking your dagger into its bulbous face with a scream of absolute rage. It lets out a final, pained noise and disintegrates into nothingness. You scan the area, making sure it was the only threat, and see no other foes.

You turn back to V, seeing him trying to stand. He’s holding one hand over his injured shoulder, wincing as he’s forced to use it to push himself up on his cane. There’s blood leaking past his fingers. He leans heavily on his cane but by the time you reach his side he stands almost normally.

“V, come on. Let’s find somewhere to sit down so I can take a look at that. Griffon, Shadow, can you keep watch please?” you say to your tattooed companion and his summoned friends.

“Aye aye, captain nurse!” Griffon caws, and Shadow lets out a soft growl as they take up defensive positions nearby, facing the open street and scanning the office park for threats.

V steps toward you, mouth set in a determined line, and your eyes scan the area for a safe spot to sit down. You’re near a newer office building, enormous glass windows giving you a good look inside at the cubicles within. You walk to it briskly, pull back your hammer and smack the window as hard as you can with a low growl. It shatters instantly and you duck, avoiding most of the shards of glass as they collapse inwards.

V limps over to you and you help him step over the low windowsill, pointing to spots with less glass for him to step. His sandals make you worry; you’ll have to check his feet after this as well.

“Here, sit here,” you tell him and lead him to a nearby office chair. It reminds you of the ones at the nurses station at the hospital, hard black plastic uncomfortable after about ten minutes. He sits heavily, letting out a grunt of pain. You crouch in front of him and gently pull his hand away from where it still presses against his wound.

It’s not as bad as you feared; the blade only penetrated a few centimeters, not even reaching any bone. Its bleeding slowly, oozing; no arteries were hit.

“Keep pressure on it,” you tell him as you dig through your pack. Your practiced hands find bandages, needle, thread and antiseptic easily. You lay out your supplies by your feet and wipe your hands on your pants to get the worst of the grime off. You look at your hands, dismayed by the blood and dirt still covering them.

“I’ll be right back. See if you can get your vest off for me,” you say to V and he gives you an obedient nod, eyes glazed from pain. You search the cubicles quickly, finding all manner of post it notes, pens, and small decorations. Finally you find what you need – disinfectant wipes, a paper clip and a pair of scissors. You grab them, barely sparing a glance at the photo of a happy young woman with a child in her arms on the desk.

Returning to V, you clean your hands with the wipes as best you can and douse them with antiseptic for good measure. You manage to keep focused even though his bare chest is staring you in the face, tattooed skin new to your eyes moving slightly with each breath he takes. V watches you, his hand still holding his shoulder as you instructed him. You stand on his injured side, antiseptic in hand, and he drops his blood covered palm.

“This will sting,” you warn him and pour the fluid over his wound. He hisses, his face twisting in pain and instinctively leaning away but he stays seated. You cap the antiseptic and get the needle and thread. Your hands have done this so many times you don’t even think about it as you thread the needle, preparing to suture V’s shoulder.

“Now for the _really_ fun part. I’ll be as gentle as I can, but try not to flinch,” you say, and he nods. You plunge the needle through his flesh, gently but firmly guiding it through and he gasps, flexing his hands and flinching just a tad. You pause, waiting for him to settle, and upon his nod you continue.

The rest of the sutures are easy enough. V seems to not feel it after the first one, letting you make a tidy row of stitches amongst his tattoos. You tie off the thread, cutting it with your looted scissors. _I should hold on to these,_ you think as you drop them near where your bag lies on the floor and reach for the bandages.

“Can you raise both arms for me?” you ask your patient. He does so and you begin the wrapping with two rotations around the junction of his bicep and deltoids. You bring the bandage roll across his chest, wrapping your arms around him to reach his back and blushing slightly at the close contact. You repeat the process until you reach his injury.

“Ok, I need you to hold the roll for a second,” you tell him and he takes it from your hands. You reach down for a patch of gauze to cover the stitches, placing it gently against the site as you take the roll back from V with your free hand. You hold the gauze in place and roll the bandage over it, adding two more rotations to keep it secure, and finally cut the bandage. You take out the paper clip and force it through the fibers of the wrapping, weaving it in as a fastening.

“Ok, that should do it,” you say as you step back to assess your work.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says as he stretches carefully, testing his range of motion. You hand him his vest, trying not to stare at his tattooed stomach now that you aren’t otherwise occupied. You watch him dress out of the corner of your eye as you pack up your medical supplies, admiring the way his muscles flex as he moves.

_I’ve always preferred leaner men, but V is a class all his own. And his tattoos...  
_

You mentally shake yourself as he turns to face you, a knowing smirk on his lips as he sees you hastily look away. He limps over to you and you stand to face him.

“Shall we continue?” he asks in a low tone. It makes you shiver despite the warmth of the room.

You give him a look before you speak, making sure he knows how serious you are.

“Yes, but you _need_ to take it easy if you can. I want to check you every six hours for bleeding, and if you feel your sutures break you tell me _immediately,_ ” you instruct him.

“I promise to do exactly as you instruct me,” he replies softly, and you think he may have multiple meanings behind his words. He steps closer to you and takes your hand in his. The few inches separating you are charged with energy as you start to lean in, your eyes closing in the last moment as –

“You two done yet?” Griffon caws from the doorway, flapping toward V anxiously. You open your eyes as V clenches his jaw in frustration, and you sigh sadly as the moment is lost. He steps away from you, giving your hand one last squeeze as he drops it.

“Just finishing up,” he says tightly to the blue bird and starts limping his way back to the window. You follow him, waiting until he’s through the glass to bring up his feet.

“V, let me check your feet for cuts. Your sandals don’t exactly offer great protection,” you say and he nods. He leans against the wall and patiently lifts each foot for you to examine. You find no damage, but you notice he has a cute mole on one of his ankles and the thought of finding others like it elsewhere on his body makes your core twitch with excitement. You stand, giving him a thumbs up.

You and V continue on, you in the lead now. The pace is slower as you check each area before he arrives behind you. Like clockwork, you check his bandage every six hours and are relieved each time to see no fresh blood. You sense his growing frustration at the delay his injury has caused and try to pick up the pace slightly, but even so you only make it halfway to where you wanted to be by nightfall.

It’s nearly 9 pm when you find a place to rest for the night; another office building, this one with a break area with a few couches. You give V some beef jerky and a granola bar, a water bottle to wash it all down and the pair of you eat in near silence. You try to think of something to say, but the aura of frustration surrounding V like a haze chokes you, stopping any words in your throat and keeping you quiet.

You curl up on one of the couches, barely able to keep from sliding off the edge. V takes one nearby and you hear him rearrange it before he lays down.

“I apologize for my attitude. Perhaps some rest will set me right. Goodnight, Y/N,” he responds tightly. You frown but remember the moment you almost kissed and it reassures you.

“We’ll make up the distance tomorrow V. We’ll find a way,” you assure him gently and he sighs.

“Goodnight.”

________________

May 30th, 2:07 pm

V

The next two days pass frustratingly slow, and V’s irritation continues to grow. His thoughts are full of self-doubt and anxiety as you remain silent by his side. He does not try touching you again, too focused on moving forward.

 _Vergil never would have let himself be distracted by romance,_ a little voice tells him for what feels like the thousandth time. **_He_** _wouldn’t have gotten injured, wouldn’t have needed to be bandaged or checked on like a child._

He knows his mood is causing you to be uncomfortable, but he can’t seem to shake the feelings of inadequacy and self-loathing.

_If I hadn’t allowed her to distract me, I wouldn’t have been injured and I wouldn’t have fallen behind so far. Romance is a distraction, **she** is a distraction from the only thing that matters: Urizen._

The familiar thought of his other half makes him glance at the enormous tree still growing in the center of the city, wondering if the delays will make them too late to keep Urizen from consuming the fruit as his steps falter slightly.

_Y/N was probably just being kind when she said she returned my affections. Even if she **was** serious, I imagine seeing me like this has changed her mind._

His heart twists in his chest painfully every time the thought crosses his mind, the thought of you not caring for him an agonizing pain that outweighs the pain in his shoulder by tenfold. Your silence doesn’t help, leaving his mind to fill in the blanks where normally your words would be. The pair of you progress, finally leaving the office buildings behind and entering an area full of restaurants and apartment complexes.

_I’m only half of a man anyway, what could I possibly offer her? I’m going to die soon, too, maybe it’s best if this goes no further._

He catches you gazing at him occasionally, a worried expression on your face. Each time he quickly turns away, resolutely trudging ever forward to meet his fate. When demons attack, he dispatches them swiftly, laser focused and determined, sometimes so fast you don’t even have a chance to land a single blow.

His musings are interrupted as once again, six hours have passed and you reach out to him, signaling to have a seat; it’s time for you to check his bandage. He obediently sits on a nearby chunk of fallen brickwork, deft fingers unlacing his vest as he goes. He shrugs the layer off his shoulders and shivers as the chill in the air runs an icy finger down his spine, now unprotected from the harsh temperature.

Your hands carefully but quickly unwrap the bandage, revealing the gauze pad hidden beneath it. V’s breath catches in a brief moment of pain as you pull the gauze away, his skin slightly sticky from the slow leak of his blood. He can’t help but look at the wound himself, curiosity filling his mind. It looks better, he thinks. The stitches a tight row amid his tattoos, a tiny amount of blood seeping from between them in a few places, but barely enough to even be generously called a trickle.

You set the soiled gauze aside and replace it with a fresh piece, your hands pressing it against his skin in a practiced motion as you roll the bandages back over the area, sealing him in once again. V carefully avoids looking at your face as you reattach the paper clip to hold it in place. He doesn’t want whatever you’re feeling to affect him, doesn’t want the pain he _knows_ he’s causing you to distract him again. You sigh heavily as you pull away, allowing him to redress himself.

“It looks a lot better. I could probably check it every twelve hours now,” you inform him in a tired and strained tone. He simply nods, standing again and immediately continuing his inexorable march to his end.

“V… _please_ say something…” you beg as you catch up to him, but he studiously remains silent. He hears your breath hitch, like you might cry.

_It doesn’t matter. I must stay focused; no more distractions._

_She’s **more** than a distraction, _a small voice insists from the back of his mind. He grits his teeth and brutally shoves the thought from his mind, a single faltering step the only evidence of his inner turmoil.

“Dammit, V, I thought we were _friends!_ Friends don’t _do_ this to each other!” you exclaim tearfully, and again he says nothing. He hears your footfalls change as you step in his path, eyes locked on his face, and the expression on your face catches him so off guard his emerald eyes immediately lock with yours for an instant before he looks away.

Your face is tight, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes under furrowed brows and mouth pressed in a small line of pain. You look utterly _distraught_.

V’s lungs deflate at the sight, the pain in your eyes taking his breath away. His heart clenches and that tiny, annoying voice pipes up again.

_You did this, and you can fix it. Say something, take her hand, **smile** for fucks sake!_

He wrestles the voice into submission again, frowning as he parts his lips to speak.

“We must press on,” he insists darkly, taking a step around you and leaving you behind as he does just that. He hears you choke back a sob, but you follow him, finally silent again. He tries desperately to ignore the guilt for causing the stillness. He misses the sound of your voice, your laugh…

_No, I can’t indulge that line of thinking any longer._

He refocuses on his surroundings, noting the strip malls lining the cracked street, yet more rubble littering his path. Ahead, he spots a cluster of activity and prepares himself for battle yet again. He sighs but is glad for the chance to release some of his frustrated energy. As the two of you get closer, the scene becomes clear and he grits his teeth at the sight.

A horde of Empusa are idly feeding on a corpse in the center of the street, the body so mutilated as to be unrecognizable as man, woman, or child. V counts eleven of the irritating insect demons as he flicks his arm to summon Griffon and Shadow.

His emerald eyes sweep the scene once more and spot movement behind a dumpster beside the building, partially hidden in an alley. He watches for a moment, then directs Griffon to investigate. Griffon flies to the dumpster, then does an impressive aerial flip to return to V’s side.  His eyes are wide and V hears his grating voice cursing as he approaches his master.

“Shit, V, we got a _Queen_!” the demonic bird hollers, panicking.

V growls internally, unrestrained rage filling him. _This is going to slow us down considerably, and we’re already so far behind…_

The smaller feeding demons finally notice the fresh meat that’s wandered into their midst, turning to face you and V and eagerly chattering to each other. He sees you step forward, reaching for your revolver, but before you can get a shot off he channels his anger through Griffon and the bird screams as he summons a veritable field of lightning, row after row of bolts striking the ground in a grid around the enemies.

An errant bolt strikes barely a foot from where you stand, and V grimaces as your face twists in surprise and fear before shooting a glare at him. He turns back to the battle, not letting his concern for you disrupt his focus. The Queen has come out from behind the dumpster now, and at the sight of her children being attacked she screeches in rage.

V directs Shadow to the center of the conflict, waiting until the Queen is in range before she shifts into a mass of spikes, piercing several of the smaller Empusa. A fraction of a second later, enormous spikes shoot out of the ground and impale another few Empusa brutally.

V, seeing his chance, darts forward to deliver the killing blow, but instead of his usual attack he rises off the ground in a flying leap. He flicks his arms apart, and a swarm of ethereal copies of his cane appear around him in the air. They streak downward as he descends to the ground, a cane hitting every single one of the Empusa. He _pulls_ the energy, moving his right hand diagonally across his torso, making his injury ache and the canes jerk even deeper into the demons. As V’s feet touch down, he’s surrounded by a cloud of demonic ash, each of the Empusa dissolving in an instant.

He turns his attention to the Queen. She bellows with fury, claws slashing the ground before her in a murderous frenzy. He smirks and snaps his fingers over his head, his onyx hair shedding its black layer like dust.

The meteor heralding Nightmare’s arrival hits the Queen on the side of her hideous face on its path to the ground, Nightmare rising from the smoke a moment later. V dashes forward, taking another leap to land on the golem’s back. He feeds Nightmare his anger, his confusion and sadness, making it leap forward and for a split second, both V and Nightmare shift into a small orb, hovering in midair where they had jumped.

The ball shifts back to reveal Nightmare, V still on its back, airborne. The massive golem lands with a crash and unleashes its strongest ability – a savage, thick laser shoots from its single eye, screaming towards the Queen. It strikes true, nearly melting the demon with its indomitable power. The Queen lets out one last, echoing screech as she dissolves into nothingness. Nightmare follows her soon after as V releases his hold on it, jumping lightly back to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, V... I promise he gets some joy soon, guys.
> 
> Initially I hadn't planned for him to just shut down, but once I started writing it, it felt right. Felt like something V would do, cuz he's a silly derp and emotionally traumatized. Poor guy... 
> 
> In case anyone's curious, here's the diagram I based the description of his shoulder wrapping off of - https://as2.ftcdn.net/jpg/00/71/76/11/500_F_71761136_3QIQNJfY8Xc3i8hpX7Gsd3atKUruoxZh.jpg
> 
> This is officially the longest thing I've ever written. The Word doc has 58k words now, so plenty more to come! We haven't even gotten to the juicy stuff yet :O
> 
> As always, thank you SO MUCH for reading! Please leave a comment to feed my soul and tell me what you think so far! 
> 
> Next chapter - Reader loses her shit, then does something I thought V and Nero should have done in the game.


	8. A Taste of Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this, but I'm too excited.
> 
> *******THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW********
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

May 30th, 3:12 pm

As V touches down, his snow-white hair fading back to black, he loses his balance and falls to one knee. You’re still standing where he left you, having watched the entire display of raw, unrestrained power from a safe distance. Now, you run towards him in concern. Despite the last few days of his sullenness and almost total disregard of you, you are drawn to him by an almost electric pull.

“V!” You gasp out as you reach him, leaning down to help him stand. “Are you alright?”

He ignores your arms reaching out to help him rise and utter agony flashes across his face as he grunts, straining to lift his own body weight and favoring his injured left side heavily.

“I’m fine,” he mutters stubbornly.

Your vision swims as rage overtakes you at his words. He just single handedly wiped out eleven Empusa and a Queen, something you would have needed _hours_ to accomplish, if you even _could,_ then collapses, and expects you to accept that he’s _fine?!_

_Like. HELL._

You tremble with the force of your anger as the silence and painful lack of contact with V over the last few days overwhelms you, vision going red as you reach forward to land a hard smack across his cheek. His eyes widen as he recoils, lips parting in shock as he almost falls to the ground, but he manages to stay upright as you scream at him.

“What the actual FUCK, V?! You are NOT FINE! Goddamnit, I’m here to help you stay alive, not watch you exhaust yourself to the point of near death! LET ME HELP YOU or I swear to GOD, I will punch you in the throat so hard _Nightmare_ will feel it from your fucking gorgeous HAIR!!!”

You pause, breathing hard as your rage cools from a boil to a simmer in your gut. V looks at you through his silky hair you so enjoyed touching and smirks. SMIRKS!

“You think my hair is gorgeous?” he asks you innocently.

You shove him in the chest and he staggers, catching himself with his cane before he falls. You give him your very best Death Glare, with capital letters thank you _very_ much, and he starts _laughing!_

The sound almost, _almost,_ shakes you out of your rage.

“This isn’t funny, V! I know you’re some badass devil hunter summoner and you probably have a _fourth_ fucking summon hidden in your goddamn EYELASHES, but – _goddamn it stop laughing!”_

He struggles for a moment but finally stops laughing. He looks at you earnestly, the most heartfelt look he’s given you in _days._ Your anger deflates, retreating into a sharp sadness as you wonder what’s been going on in his head to have made him treat you so coldly.

His eyes narrow and he bites his lip, looking away, and you realize you must’ve asked that question out loud. Refusing to retreat, you cross your arms and wait for him to answer you and prepare another slap if he says something stupid.

“Y/N…” he shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable with what he needs to say. “I apologize for my behavior. I have not been… myself since I was injured. I don’t do well when I feel powerless. There are things about me I cannot tell you, but going forward I will treat you with more kindness. Can you forgive me?”

You growl deep in the back of your throat, not satisfied with his half-answer. “That doesn’t answer my question, V. What’s going on with you?”

He looks at his feet, hiding his emerald gaze from you behind his hair.

“I… I allowed my frustration to get the better of me. We’re running out of time to catch up, and it gets under my skin. I… believed our interactions to be a distraction that would slow us down even further, and I can’t allow any further delays. Again, I apologize.”

You huff, still not satisfied but realizing that’s the most straightforward answer you’re going to get. There’s still one last question he has to answer before you move on, though.

You reach out, not daring to even breathe as you rest your hand on his shoulder. He looks up at you again, waiting. You bite your lower lip, terrified of his answer but needing to know all the same.

“Do you _really_ think this… _I…_ am just a distraction and _nothing_ more?”

You realize you’re crying again as you watch his face, searching for any shred of fondness or affection for you. His face shifts back to the flat, dead arrangement of his features he’s worn for the last few days and your heart breaks for an instant before his eyes fill with tenderness and his mouth twists into the tiniest of smiles. Your heart soars as he speaks.

“You are _so_ much more that a distraction to me,” he finally responds, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear and you smile gently at him, hesitantly leaning into his touch. It feels magical to have his skin on yours again, even just this small contact makes you dizzy with relieved tension and eased fears.

“Then I forgive you. Just DON’T. DO IT. _AGAIN_.” You punctuate the last few words with pokes to his chest and he strokes your cheek with his thumb, wiping away the remnants of your tears as he speaks.

“Never.”

________________

Barely a half hour later, recognition stirs within your mind as you turn down a new street. _I know this place…_

You walk a little faster, V doing his best to keep up as you stride to a familiar building. He frowns as he reads the sign aloud.

“Frank’s Bar and Grill? Why have we stopped here?”

“I used to work here and I think there may be something here to lift your spirits.”

You smile, spotting exactly what you were hoping to see in the parking lot. You push the door open and it thankfully opens; the demons appeared during business hours, it seems. V follows you inside the dark bar and pauses, waiting for his eyes to adjust. You know the bar well enough to not need to pause; the familiar booths and motorcycle memorabilia greeting you through the darkness like an old friend. You carefully pick your way behind the bar, arms outstretched just in case someone left a bar stool too far out or something. Your hand slides down the wooden bar, feeling the familiar grain of the oak under your fingertips until you reach the register. You duck down, looking beneath the counter and find what you’d been looking for – _keys._ You also take a moment to stow a couple mostly-full bottles in your bag with a mischievous smirk. _  
_

You stand up, triumphantly jangling the keys for V to hear.

“You’re about to feel so, _so_ much better…”

As you walk back to V, you spot a long piece of shiny metal on your right. You smile and pick it up, glad to finally have a more suitable weapon. You give the metallic baseball bat a few swings, then head to V and lead him back into the sunshine outside, hastily wrapping the strap of your bag around the bat to free your hands.

The keys turn out to be for an old Yamaha motorcycle, dark blue and decorated with several tasteless stickers. The backseat is small and doesn’t have a back to it so V won’t be able to lean back. You grin at V as you climb into the driver’s seat and turn the key, the engine roaring to life. You chuckle as he jumps slightly at the sound and you toss him a helmet.

“See V? Told you we’d find a way to catch up. Look, it even has a mostly full tank of gas!” you shout as he approaches, struggling to be heard over the engine’s roar. He carefully gets on behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold on.

“Indeed you did! You _do_ know how to drive this, right?” he yells in your ear. You twist the throttle in response, making the machine somehow make even _more_ noise.

“Now hold on!” you shout and kick with your left foot while squeezing the lever on the left handlebar simultaneously, shifting into gear as you barely twist the right handlebar, and he grips your waist even more tightly as the bike smoothly rolls forward out of the parking lot. Once on the main road, you twist the accelerator again and kick, shifting into second gear as you build a little more speed. V’s hands on your waist grip you tightly but not painfully, and you take a moment to revel in his hands on your body, wondering what it would feel like for him to touch you in other areas. You can barely hear V over the bike’s engine as he yells at top volume.

“I’ve never been on one of these before!”

You smirk, enjoying the fact that you _finally_ found something you can do that he can’t that directly contributes to his mission.

“Just don’t let go of my waist and lean with me during turns! Don’t worry, I’ve got this!” you shout back to him as you shift into third, zooming past areas that would have taken all day to walk through. You have to backtrack frequently as the roads are blocked by vehicles, debris, and the strange elevation changes caused by the tree. Your mind drifts as you drive, remembering the day your ex taught you to ride. A long and exhausting day, but even more exhausting was the man himself. _I’m glad I got away from him…_

The wind rushes by you as you cruise through the city, time passing in a blur. You drive until dusk and finally slow in a residential area. Houses spread out around you, white picket fences and perfectly landscaped gardens like icing on a cake. You park in a cul-de-sac and V slowly lets go of your waist, giving you a slight pang at the loss of sensation. You stretch your arms to the sides, then take off the stifling helmet and dismount, V doing the same.

“We covered _so_ much ground today. We might actually be able to meet Nero and Nico tomorrow,” he says happily. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this happy; he almost seems to bounce as he strides to the nearest house.

“I hope they’re doing alright…” you respond, quickly catching up to him by the door. The house isn’t huge, a single story. You try the door and find it locked.

“Allow me,” V says dramatically and you back away instinctively. He gestures with one arm, summoning Shadow. She materializes in a blur, already barreling toward the door to the house. She crashes against it, ripping the door right off its hinges and flinging it ten feet into the room beyond. V gives her a rewarding pat as the pair of you head inside. She purrs loudly as you scratch under her chin as you pass, then vanishes in a cloud of black shards.

You try not to look at the photos lining the entryway of a happy family, but you find yourself hoping they escaped the carnage. The home is freezing cold, colder than outside. Someone must have left the AC on. You and V explore the house cautiously, wary of any demonic activity. Your eyes skim the living area, looking homey with a lumpy looking brown couch and oak coffee table set before the television. You turn left and find a kitchen, dirty dinner dishes still stacked in the sink. The linoleum floor clacks beneath your feet as you check the cupboards, finding pasta and a bottle of sauce to your immense pleasure.

“V, help me look for a pot to cook pasta in, and a saucepan too,” you instruct him and he starts opening cupboards systematically across from you.

You try the stove top, fairly certain it won’t be functional but pleasantly surprised when a gas flame shoots out. V brings you a large pot and a laughably small saucepan. The water works when you turn the faucet and you lock eyes with V for a moment in utter joy.

“V… we might get to _shower!_ ” you tell him excitedly and he smirks at your enthusiasm.

You cook the pasta and heat the sauce, making a simple but satisfying meal for the two of you. You eat in near silence, too busy enjoying the food to talk. For a time the only sound is the clatter of silverware on plates, which V had brought you as well. You look over at him and see him slurp up some pasta that had been dangling from his full lips. You chuckle at the sight and he glances at you, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

“You have a little sauce on your chin,” you tell him, and he wipes his chin with the back of his wrist, missing the sauce entirely. You laugh again and reach out a hand to help him.

“Here, let me,” you say, and he holds perfectly still as your fingers brush against his chin, his stubble scraping your fingertips and sending a jolt through you. Your hand trembles a bit, partially from fatigue and partially due to the sensation of touching him so intimately. He takes the opportunity to take your fingers in his mouth and you feel his warm tongue licking away the sauce you had removed from his chin, his mouth sucking gently.

_That feels… oh my…_

His tongue caresses your fingers once more, the sauce long gone, and you barely suppress a moan as heat pools low in your stomach. He lets your fingers go and looks you right in the eyes.

“ _Delicious…_ ” he whispers in a downright _dangerously_ seductive tone and another surge of arousal rises within you, making your head feel light and your heart beat excitedly.

You swallow nervously at the sparkle in his eyes, the smirk on his tempting lips proving that he knows _exactly_ the effect he’s having on you. You blush, suddenly overly aware of your unkempt hair and unwashed body.

“I… I’m going to go try the shower…” you stammer out and somehow manage to step away from him.

“I’ll be picturing you in there until I get my turn. Take your time,” he growls, eyes carefully watching your stride. Your body betrays you as you pause at his words, a heady gush of warm energy shooting from your toes to the top of your head, but you keep walking, determined to scrub away the filth of the last… _however_ long it had been since your last _actual shower_.

You find the shower easily enough, barely noticing the blue walls and seafoam green towels on the rack. You fiddle with the knobs and are rewarded with a chilled spray of water. You wait, hoping for hot water, and almost cry in happiness when the temperature shifts. You strip, indulging yourself slightly and imagining V’s hands removing your clothes, and step into the hot spray.

You ruminate on the last few days, remembering all the interruptions in moments of almost-kissing, and you growl in frustration.

_Damn demons. Damn Griffon. Damn V’s dumb ego and rush to deal with Urizen. All I want is five minutes, five minutes to fucking kiss the guy…_

You imagine what it might feel like to have his lips against yours, that adorable smirk opening to let you taste him. The flirting, the banter, the _almosts_  have been driving you mad with desire.  You remember the feeling of leaning on his shoulder, sharing trail mix. His arm wrapping around your waist after you hugged him. The look of _hunger_ in his emerald eyes each time you were within inches of each other.

You need release like a blanket on a snow day, and your hand drifts to your stomach, sliding lower to open yourself up. The thoughts keep coming, ever faster. The press of his lips on your wrist, his hand in yours. The timbre of his voice as he’d confessed his interest in you. Your fingers in his mouth, _oh my…_ His hands in your air, washing it.

Your fingers move faster and faster against your sensitive bundle of nerves, quiet gasps escaping your lips as you rock your hips against your hand. Blood thunders in your ears as you put pressure on that one little spot, rubbing hard and fast now. You think of the feel of his hair through your fingertips, the silky softness of it, and you wonder how he’d react if you pulled it and you come undone as you visualize the look on his face, a single long moan escaping you as your release pulses through your body in a tidal wave of pleasure.

________________ 

V

V hears the water turn on and smiles, extremely gratified by your reaction to his playful teasing over dinner. He only pictures you in the shower for a moment before respectfully redirecting his thoughts. He stands, gathering the dishes together and bringing them to the sink.

_There’s no point actually washing them, considering the circumstances, but at the least I can clear the area so Y/N can cook if she wants to in the morning._

He reflects on the change within him since you slapped him and yelled at him. Seeing the rage on your face and remembering your obvious worry over the days prior to it had shaken something within him, something _bold_ and _hungry,_ that tiny voice in the back of his mind screaming as it finally broke the thick walls he’d built to contain it and took control. He didn’t _want_ to ignore how he felt about you anymore; in fact, he _couldn’t_. If he’d ever had any chance of not caring for you, it was _long_ passed.

His entire existence was centered around one purpose – to defeat Urizen, and goddamnit he wanted _more_ than that! And he didn’t want to _die_ most of all. Perhaps it was selfish of him, to picture a fantasy of being happy with you, but tonight he doesn’t care.

To pass the time, he explores the house more fully, indulging his curiosity. It seems a family of two women and a young child lived here, the pictures on the walls featuring them smiling and playing together. He finds the child’s room but doesn’t enter; it felt strange to even _consider_ snooping on a child. Instead he wanders toward where the sounds of you showering are emanating from, assuming it leads to the master bedroom. His cane clicks against the wood flooring, sheath left in the main area of the home.

He mentally congratulates himself when he proves himself correct. The bed looks quite large, easily enough room for you both, and he smiles gently at the idea of sleeping next to you again. Maybe this time he’ll even have the nerve to touch you?

He hears a door open, and glances back to the bathroom to see you standing in the hallway wearing nothing but a towel. You walk toward him with lidded eyes and he swallows, mouth suddenly dry at the sight of your still-wet skin and damp hair.

“All yours, I left the water on for you too. Maybe next time we can share?” you say coquettishly as you pass him, and the image of your naked forms pressed together beneath the warm spray makes him harden slightly and he has to suppress a moan. He turns to watch you walk to the closet, your hips swaying more than normal and catches a whiff of the vanilla soap you used.

_Tease… two can play at that game._

“I _doubt_ we’d get very clean… in fact, I _guarantee_ it…” he says with a smirk as he walks away, leaving you to your thoughts. He reaches the bathroom and goes to close the door, then smirks and leaves it open a few inches. He starts removing his clothes, wondering if there was time to wash them as well. The leather of his coat stood up fairly well to demon blood and ichor, but his pants were a different story once again. Sighing, he reaches out to test the water.

It is a pleasing temperature, hot enough to make him feel comfortable. He steps into the spray eagerly, letting out a loud groan of pleasure as the water hits his exhausted body. He braces his unhurt arm against the wall, leaning into the water and letting it soak his hair and soak his bandage. He tilts his face up into the spray, letting the water cleanse away all the time spent fighting and riding behind you.

Eventually, he looks at the available soaps and shampoos. Most are far too strongly scented for his liking, but one is a subtle lavender scent and he uses that on his hair. He massages the shampoo into his scalp and remembers the way you caressed his hair a few short days ago. He smiles, turning around to rinse away the suds.

He takes his time washing his body; to slip and fall here would be terribly embarrassing. As he reaches his groin, his thoughts return to the feel of your touch, the taste of your fingers mixed with pasta sauce, the sound of your laugh. He remembers the very first day you met, when you slid into him in the back of Nico’s van and absentmindedly strokes himself.

_I shouldn’t be doing this…_

Yet his hand keeps moving, and the thoughts keep coming to mind. The glassy eyed look you got when he teased you. The way your arms felt around him when you bandaged him. The power of your body leaning during motorcycle turns. The feeling of kissing the soft skin of your wrist. All the moments that have been building between you run through his mind as his hand quickens, breath coming in pants now.

_I **really** shouldn’t be doing this…_

His mind transitions from memory to things he hopes are yet to come and he pictures you lying beneath him, eyes glassy as he enters you for the first time. Imagines the taste of your mouth on his. Imagines his hands on your skin, touching you everywhere. Imagines the sounds you might make when you come undone, just for _him_.

At that, he explodes. He lets out a long, shuddering breath, trying to be as quiet as possible, but a tiny moan slips past his parted lips. He stands there, slowly pumping through his pleasure as his mind goes blank, his imagination finally satiated.

He finishes cleaning himself and shuts off the water, carefully stepping out of the shower to get a towel. His emerald gaze checks the door, seeing it still as he’d left it, untouched. He towels his hair and stares into the mirror as he wraps it around his waist.

_Get a hold of yourself. Focus._

The recently released voice within him voices the thought he’s been avoiding since the moment of his creation; _I don’t want to. I want to **live.**_

He turns away from his reflection with a sigh and steps out into the bedroom to find you in a pair of pajama bottoms and a tight t-shirt, lying in bed with the covers turned already for him and another set of pajamas laid out. He smiles, pleased to see the invitation. He watches your face as he stands before you, towel slung purposefully low on his hips and water still dripping down his patterned chest. You part your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you playfully as he steps forward to take the pajamas, turning only after you look away blushing.

He returns to the bathroom to change, still thinking about the way your blush makes you glow. He dresses quickly, exhaustion hitting him even as thoughts of you continue racing through his mind. He comes back to the bedroom, having not bothered with the shirt you’d left for him, and he relishes the way your glinting eyes roam his body as he approaches the bed. He yawns, and you smile as he joins you in bed.

You face each other silently for a moment, both enjoying the peace. You reach out to touch his hair, and his eyes drift closed. His face relaxes as you touch him and he leans into your hand. You stop and turn over, grabbing the hairbrush you’d found.

“Sit up, V. I’m going to brush your hair,” you tell him. He smirks but sits up obediently, eyes still closed. You begin at the ends, working your way through the tangled mass of wet strands as gently as you can.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he sighs contentedly. You brush his hair gently, the strokes soothing and full of tenderness he has not known since he was a child. You brush until all the tangles are gone, then gently press his shoulder to make him lie back down. You put the brush back and turn to face him again. Your hand reaches out to stroke his hair again and he chuckles.

“You really like my hair, eh?”

You blush but murmur a yes.

“What else do you like?” he asks softly, playfully.

Your hand moves from his hair to his neck to trace one of the dark lines of his tattoos.  You keep going, hand gliding down his chest. You scoot closer to him, until you’re only inches apart and he wraps an arm around you. He opens his eyes, meeting yours immediately. You gasp softly at the look of affection in his emerald orbs and he pulls you even closer to him. You can smell the lavender soap he used, already mixing with his natural scent. The combination is easily the best thing you’ve ever smelled.

You and V move in unison, closing the distance between you at long last, uninterrupted as you finally, _blessedly_ feel his lips on yours. Your lips meet gently, cautiously. His mouth is so soft against yours you almost think you’ve imagined it. Then you hear him inhale deeply and press his lips more firmly against yours, moving against you deliciously. You moan softly and he pulls back.

“So that’s what heaven tastes like…” he whispers softly, and you stroke his cheek affectionately. He turns his head to kiss your palm, then settles against the pillows.

“Goodnight, my poet…” you whisper back.

“Goodnight, my little fox…” he murmurs, and you both drift into a deep, dreamless sleep, still holding each other close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww.... so cute how they play house ^.^
> 
> I truly hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Not gonna lie, I'm pretty nervous about it lol. Send help. Side note, I do not know how to drive a motorcycle. Wikihow is a godsend and I hope I did a reasonably good job of writing it. If anyone reading this has any pointers, please do let me know! I'd love to improve my work. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading, I appreciate you all!
> 
> Next Chapter - more stuff that makes me nervous to post, yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. Also, how does Griffon feel about this?


	9. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good afternoon, readers! Just want to say THANK YOU!!! We're at almost 600 hits and I can hardly believe it! 
> 
> ********THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW********
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

V

May 31st, 1:42 am

V wakes a few hours later to find himself facing away from you, having turned at some point in his sleep. Your backs are pressed together, keeping the contact you’d both been craving. The mattress beneath him quivers slightly and for a moment he struggles to identify why.

It’s you shivering against his back. The night is chilled; there will be frost in the ground in the morning, he knows. For a long time, V holds himself in check. He knows his attraction to you in genuine, yet part of him still wonders how much of it is simply his human soul reaching for a bond to hold onto in a desperate attempt to connect before his inevitable demise. 

_What does it matter? She's cold and I can do something about it._

He rolls over and wraps his arms around you, pressing his body against yours.

"I can feel you shivering, Y/N. Please, allow me," he whispers in your ear. He feels you nod and struggles to not pull you even closer. He hopes you don't wake first, as he imagines lying this close may cause a... _physical_ reaction. He closes his eyes, smelling your hair scented with the vanilla shampoo you had used. He decides he loves vanilla.

 _Perhaps I can manage both the mission and some comfort,_ he thinks to himself as he falls back asleep.   
________________

You lay in his arms, trying not to imagine him above you, lips parted and eyes closed in pleasure. He was cold, you were cold. That's all. You try to ignore the long sniff he'd taken of your hair, the way he moaned in his sleep whenever you shifted your body. _God, that moan..._

You shift again, scolding yourself for being so indecent.

"Uhnnnn..." said V, breathily. You feel a warmth growing deep within you, driving you mad with want. The teasing of the last day had heightened your desire by tenfold, at _least._  You shift again, trying to get your hips against his, and are rewarded with a whimper escaping his lips. You can feel him now, pressed up against you and slightly hard. _Oh no, I shouldn't have done this to myself. Fuck. I want him so bad._

__________________

V

This time, V wakes to the much more enjoyable sensation of you rubbing against his already hardening cock.

All he wants in that moment is to feel you envelop him, feel your warmth cocoon him inside you. He understands the mechanics of attraction; Vergil certainly wasn’t shy about women. But Vergil had also never been in love, so V had no idea if that’s what was happening to him. He wanted to know what love felt like, regardless. His aching loneliness cries out for it with every fiber of his being.

_Fuck, that feels amazing..._

He keeps his eyes closed, wondering if you’re teasing him deliberately. He gets his answer when you shift against him again, pressing your backside against him even harder and rubbing slightly, sending a rush of pleasure through his body. He smirks to himself, deciding to tease you right back.

"Y/N..." he suggestively moans in your ear, his arms tightening around you, his hips shifting forward to subtly emphasize his arousal. 

________________

_Is he still asleep?_

You freeze, waiting, until his breathing resumes a steady rhythm and his arms relax. You smile to yourself, feeling victorious. You want to push him further. You sigh, shifting again and rubbing against him slightly and sending a delightful blast of hormones to settle in your lower belly in a pool of warmth. Oh, damn that felt _good_. His arms tighten again as he groans deep in his chest.

You can really feel his length now. _Oh my..._

You shift once more, when suddenly V speaks.

"Y/N, if you keep behaving that way I'll have to retaliate... would you like that?" he whispers, his voice lower than you've ever heard it.

You can't help it. You moan a soft yes.

Immediately, his hands grip your wrists, and he turns you to face him. You can see his eyes now, half lidded with desire. He licks his parted lips, still holding your wrists captive.

" ** _He who desires but act not, breeds pestilence_** ," he mutters, before pressing his lips to yours.

_Oh. Oh my._

His lips are forceful but gentle, making his wants known without forcing you to comply. You moan against his mouth, opening yours to him. Your tongues meet, getting a deeper taste of one another after all this _waiting,_ all this _desire._ He growls and turns you again, climbing over your body so that he straddles your hips. He kisses you again, harder this time, and you taste him hungrily. He finally releases your wrists and you immediately thread your fingers in his hair. He moans, and you give his onyx hair a gentle pull. You open your eyes to see his reaction and oh my... his eyes are shut tight, brows drawn together in a look of absolute pleasure even more wonderful than you had been able to imagine. His mouth is hanging open and as you give his silky hair another pull, a high-pitched whine escapes his throat, the sound shooting straight to your core and starting a fire between your thighs.

"You like that, huh?" you ask in a sultry tone, already knowing the answer.

"Oh Y/N, the things I want to _do_ to you..." V responds, his voice incredibly breathy and sensual.

"Tell me. Or better yet, _show me_." you reply with another tug of his obsidian locks.

He growls, taking your wrists again and holding them forcefully with one hand over your head. His lips move to your jaw, your neck, nipping and kissing along the way. His hips grind against yours; he wants you to know how much he wants you. The feeling of his hard length pressing into you sends lightning bolts coursing through your body, making you whimper. His free hand slides under your shirt, tracing your stomach and giving you more shivers of pleasure.

"Oh, V... _please_ don't stop..."

"As you wish, little fox."

His hand travels lower still, pausing at your pajama pants. You nod and his hand plunges underneath the fabric, his long fingers probing further still. When he touches your core, you arch your back into him and moan his name again. He smirks, his long fingers tracing tiny circles around your clit gently.

" _Fuck_ , V, yes! I want you so bad..."

His fingers speed up, one long digit probing your entrance now. He sucks in his breath and bites his lip attractively as you roll your hips into his hand, forcing his elegant finger inside you. He pulls his hand away, making you cry out, but he simply holds his wet finger to his lips, and you watch as he slowly licks it clean, trembling under his intense emerald gaze as he maintains eye contact the entire time.

"You truly do taste like heaven. Tell me, shall I sample you directly?"

You know what he's asking and your breath catches in your throat as your eyes close at the image of him using those gorgeous lips on your core. You nod your head, open-mouthed, making him smirk again.

He releases your wrists and moves down your body, leaving a trail of fiery kisses on your stomach. His hands drift across your chest, under your shirt and you lift your body eagerly to hastily pull it off, and his hands, _oh his hands,_ go straight to your chest to tease your hardened peaks, fingertips brushing the tips and softly pinching you to new heights. It's so distracting you almost miss it when he pulls the knot of your pajama pants open with his teeth. He licks just above your pant line, right over your core, and you shimmy your hips to get your pants down lower for him. He chuckles, then finally pulls them down to your ankles with one smooth motion of his beautiful hands, taking your underwear as well. He pauses to take you in, eyes flashing hungrily in the night.

“ ** _The nakedness of woman is the work of God,_** ” he pronounces with a look of worship on his face and your very _soul_ sings.

His hands grip your hips as he looks up at you once more with those emerald eyes and that teasing smirk. Then he runs his tongue up your slit, moaning as he tastes you. His eyes flutter closed and yours follow soon after. You tangle your hands in his hair again, giving him an encouraging tug whenever he touches you just right, which seems to be almost _constantly_. You start to moan his name more and more between curses as he pushes you toward the brink of coming undone, but it isn't until he plunges a finger into your depths that you finally go over the edge. Your body clenches and you wail his name, and he growls into your folds as he licks you into oblivion, noisily lapping up your fluids.

You finally go limp and he prowls his way back up your body, dragging his hips up to meet yours. He looks deep in your eyes.

"How far do you want to go tonight, little fox?" he asks you breathily. You pause, unsure. You want him desperately, but in that moment you realize how much you want him to want you again tomorrow, and the next day, and for all the days to come. You don’t want to rush this. So, you decide, and instead of replying verbally you sit up, grab his wrists and switch places with him. His eyes sparkle with delight and desire as you kiss him again, tasting yourself as your tongues dance. Your mouth migrates to his neck, suckling and kissing his throbbing pulse down to his collarbone. You trail kisses down his chest, admiring his tattoos as you go and he slowly leans back onto the bed. Your hands drift to his waistline, pushing the fabric down to his thighs and freeing him. You don't bother to look at his briefs; you have more interesting things to look at.

He is magnificent. Your mouth goes dry as you take in the sight of his hard length, a shiny drop decorating the tip like a cherry on a sundae just for you. He watches your face, smirking as always.

"You like what you see?" he asks softly, voice a low purr.

You grin at him, running a single finger down his length and he curses, cock twitching against your touch.

"Very much indeed..." you reply, licking your lips suggestively.

You lean down over him, kissing his stomach and teasing him just a little bit more before you lick his tip, tasting him. He gasps, his hands twitching slightly. You lick him again, and again. Just barely taking his head in your lips each time. Teasing.

"Oh Y/N... _please_. _Fuck_..."

You hum and take his head into your warm mouth, your jaw stretching to contain his girth. He growls and his hips lift slightly, making his shaft go past your lips as well. You twirl your tongue around his head and moan around him. You feel him move and suddenly his hands are tangled in your hair. He whimpers and you start to move more quickly, pressing your wet tongue against the underside of his cock as you hollow your cheeks and suck him into the back of your throat until you can’t fit any more. He curses as you bob up and down, giving him what he wants, what he _needs._ You bring him to the edge, so close he's begging, and you look up at his face. He's watching you intently, face screwed up in the image of ecstasy, and as your eyes lock he comes undone underneath you with a long groan of your name. You keep going, lips caressing every inch of him as he fills your mouth with his hot load, tasting every salty drop until he relaxes again. You finally remove your mouth from him with a soft _pop_ , kissing his softening head once more before crawling up to lay beside him again.

"Y/N.... my little fox..." he pants, tattooed chest still heaving and a look of rapturous joy on his features.

You hum and kiss him, smiling into his lips. Damn, you were falling _fast_. You cuddle up against him and lay your head on his chest, enjoying his warmth as you drift off to sleep together.  
________________

May 31st, 9:27 am

When you wake, V is stroking your hair. You're facing each other but you don't open your eyes at first. You want to bask in the tenderness of this moment for a while. You hear his voice, so deep and lovely...

_**"I curse my stars in bitter grief and woe, that made my love so high, and me, so low..."** _

He sighs sadly, and you feel a pang in your heart at his pain. You hate seeing people in pain, but even more so after what you shared last night.

You hum, letting V know you're awake. You open your eyes slowly, seeing his emerald gaze locked on your eyes, his lips smiling gently. The look in his face is so warm it makes you melt inside, and you pull him down for a kiss.

His lips are so soft and warm, welcoming yours as if he were dying of thirst and you were a glass of water. You've never been kissed like this before. You trail your hands up his back, stroking his hair gently. You want to make him feel as peaceful as you can before you have to return to your reality of demon hunting and Qlipoth roots.

Eventually, he pulls away with a sigh.

"My little fox, we should get moving soon. As much as it pains me, we must press on," he murmurs. You pout for a moment before sitting up, holding the sheet to your chest until you find your shirt and panties from last night tangled in the sheets. You slip them on and rise out of bed, heading for the closet and finding a loose pair of pants and a tight t-shirt within that suit your taste.

You dress in the bathroom, not quite ready for him to see your entire body in the light of day. You don the clothes quickly and return to the bedroom to find V in his signature coat, but it looks like he found a new pair of dark cargo pants. They somehow fit him even _more_ tightly than his original pair.

_No fair…_

You’re just tying the laces on your shoes when V brings out Griffon and Shadow.

" _Wowee_ , Shakespeare! You look happy... what happened last night?" Griffon asks knowingly as Shadow pads around her master in small, happy circles.

 _Oh._ Your hands pause on your shoelaces. You hadn't even thought about them. _Could they feel when he...? Oh my._

V chuckles at your expression, then pulls you in for a scorching kiss, laying you down on the bed once again and leaving you gasping for breath, his tongue darting in and out of your mouth in a joyful dance whose steps left you craving more. Clearly, he didn't care if Griffon teased him about your... activities. You find yourself extremely turned on by his assertiveness, and maybe a little by the idea of having an audience as well.

Griffon wolf whistles, flapping his wings without taking flight. Shadow lets out a pleased purr and bares her teeth in an approximation of a smile.

"Well it's _about damn time_! Shakespeare here's had nothing else on his mind for _days_! You're all he thinks about, little lady!" Griffon cackles happily.

At this, V blushes. You look at him, surprised. "Really? Is that so? Tell me more Griffon..."

V puts his head in his hands as Griffon laughs. "He's been thinking about kissing you since he first saw ya! Oh, and some of the things he was thinking when you were training with that hammer? Would’a made _Dante_ blush!"

V cringes slightly but doesn't deny anything. You decide to even the score a bit, though you'll _definitely_ tease him plenty later on.

You lean over and whisper to him, "My first thought when I first saw you was that you are ridiculously, _unfairly_ handsome. Just so we're even."

He raises an eyebrow at that, smirking yet again through his onyx hair.

Griffon still isn't finished though. "And he first got hard for you when you slid into him in the van, remember that V? _Classic_!"

Even you blush at this. _They know when he gets hard...? Oh my. This could be troublesome._

"Griffon, do you... _always_ know when that happens?" you question him.

Griffon flies in a loop, laughing. "Not to worry, only when he lets his guard down!" He cackles again. Your shoulders slump in relief; as long as V pays attention, it should still be private. You hope.

"Ok, Griffon. Can you do me a favor then, and keep all that info between you, me, and V? Pretty please?" You put on your most convincing smile, hoping Griffon has a shred of decorum in his feathery body.

"Hmm... what's in it for me?" he asks quizzically. Hovering in midair with an occasional beat of his massive wings. You huff and cross your arms.

"Well, what do you want?"

V pinches the bridge of his nose at this, and you wonder how large a can of worms you've just opened.

"How about... a kiss?" Griffon lands on your shoulder, angling his beak near your face. "Right here, little lady!"

You glance at V. He seems resigned and shrugs at you, almost smirking at your predicament but having the grace to try and hide it.

"You're lucky I like birds," you grumble, then carefully plant a smooch on Griffon's expectant beak. He whoops and flies another loop, laughing hysterically.

Griffon lands back on your shoulder, looking almost innocent. "My beak is sealed! I promise!"

Shadow pads up to you, looking expectant.

“You too, huh?” you ask the huge cat, and she purrs as if to say yes. You sigh but lean over and press your lips against her soft fur, right on top of her warm head. She purrs again and returns to V’s body in a burst of black shards.

You reach a hand up to offer Griffon a pat, and V shakes his head as you walk to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast, the demonic bird still happily perched precariously on your shoulder. You take the opportunity to ask Griffon a few questions that have been nagging at the back of your mind.

“So, how does V’s connection with you work? Can you communicate telepathically? Can you talk to him when you’re within his tattoos?”

The feathered demon laughs before he answers, “Hehehe, finally asking the important questions! I like it, I like it! Well, here’s what we know so far – V has to use some of his energy to summon any of us, and more to keep us out like this. That’s why we don’t hang around constantly, he can’t spare the energy. Nightmare obviously takes _waaaay_ more energy to bring out. We aren’t telepathic, unfortunately. It’s more like we can get a rough idea of what’s going on around him when we aren’t summoned. Telepathy would be interesting, can you _imagine_ if I’d said something in his head last night while you were… erm…”

Imagining it makes you let out a loud guffaw, the idea so very _Griffon,_ and picturing V’s face is too much and you laugh even harder.

“What would you have _said_?” you ask him, morbidly curious.

“Two words, little lady – _nice view._ ”

You have to lean against the wall as you cry tears of mirth, imagining the scene in your mind - V’s face shifting from pleasure to shock, his jaw clenching for a moment as he tries to refocus, Griffon probably teasing him internally the whole time…

“I’m suddenly _very_ glad you aren’t telepathic!” you tell the bird as he fluffs his feathers, clearly pleased with himself for making you laugh so hard.

You reach the kitchen, still chuckling occasionally as you search for something to make for breakfast. A thought occurs to you suddenly, immediately vocalizing it to Griffon.

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘what we know so far’?”

He shuffles his feet, looking away from you and flattening his feathers. If a bird could ever look uncomfortable with a conversation topic, this is what it would look like. He takes an almost awkward amount of time to answer.

“Look, all I can say is we haven’t been with V that long yet. Anything beyond that, you’ll have to ask _him._ It ain’t my secret to share,” he says tactfully, “And it’s a _doozy_. You _gotta_ get V to tell you.”

With that cryptic answer, Griffon hops off your shoulder and flies back to V, and when V comes into the kitchen all his tattoos are dark. You instantly want to ask him about what Griffon had told you, but your stomach grumbles loudly and you decide breakfast will have to come first. You make a simple breakfast of sausage and toast, and you and V eat quickly, anxious to get moving once again. You take a moment to ransack the pantry, restocking your supplies, and grab a few changes of clean clothes. You move all of your gear into a large backpack you find in a hall closet, able to fit a little bit more in the larger bag. V’s sandals slap against the walkway as you leave the house, your muffling bandages having long since worn away.

You mount the bike and V carefully gets on behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist once again as you start the engine. You went through just over a quarter tank yesterday, so you should be able to use the bike for another couple of days before it runs out. As you and V put your helmets on and depart, he scoots closer to you and presses his body against yours. You smile at the extra contact, slowly guiding the motorcycle to the open road.

You drive for a few hours before you feel V’s hands move, running up your body languidly as you drive. You shudder at his touch and feel his cock twitch where he holds it pressed against your hip. The bike slows as your focus wavers, the feel of his hands distracting you. He wraps his long fingers on your hips, gripping you tightly, and moves against you, his body rubbing against your back sensually. His hand drifts forward, the other still gripping you for balance as he traces a path from your hip to your core, inching his way under the hem of your loose pants carefully.

His dexterous fingers rub your clit, making you moan almost as loud as the bike as he teases you. You are so damn tempted to pull over, but his hand retreats the moment you think of it and you push against him, acknowledging his teasing with a light tease of your own as you rub against him. His hands clench where they rest on your hips, tight enough to bruise but you love it.

_I need to teach him how to ride so I can play with him from back there…_

You refocus your thoughts on the road, guiding the bike around various obstacles as you approach the meeting point with your friends. Its barely past noon as you round the final corner to see Nero setting up a fire pit, Nico watching from nearby on the ground, smoking a cigarette. You feel an invisible weight lift from your shoulders at seeing them, immensely relieved to see them safe.

You pull the bike up next to her van, putting it into park and lowering the kickstand as your two friends approach. The bike falls silent as you pull the keys away and turn to face them with a wide grin.

“Hey guys, how you been?” you ask them casually in the silence and almost laugh at their expressions of shock at the sight of you and V riding a motorcycle.

Nero responds first by shaking his head and laughing, “Where the _hell_ did you _find_ that thing? You got another for me?”

“Y/N found it in the parking lot of a bar, the keys were inside behind the counter. I never would have thought to check,” V answers with a wry grin as he dismounts the bike, stretching his legs out to restore some semblance of normal blood flow.

“Well, it’s fucking _badass_!” Nico chimes in with a huge smile on her face. She walks up to the bike for a closer look, clearly excited at the chance to examine another piece of machinery.

Nero seems to finally look at you and V, taking in your different clothes and fresh injuries.  He raises an eyebrow at V’s extensive shoulder bandage but doesn’t comment. Nero himself doesn’t seem to have sustained any injuries, to your immense relief, and you run over to give him a hug.

“It’s good to see you’re okay! I was worried about you guys,” you tell him as he awkwardly wraps his flesh-and-metal arms around you.

“Aw, no need to worry ‘bout us, Y/N! Only real issue we’ve run into is that Nero can’t seem to keep his damn arm from breaking when he fights, little jerk has had to have me fix it _three times_ already!” Nico exclaims, her arms gesturing wildly. Nero makes a face at her in response. You chuckle, somehow comforted to see the two of them acting like siblings. You’ve missed having everyone together.

Even V seems cheerful, smiling at their antics as he strides to sit on a rather large piece of rubble. You take the chance to examine the area, noting the several hulking brick building nearby and the chunks of them that are missing, roots ripping through their decades-old foundations to shift the walls enough to crack. You follow the horizon to see the reason you’re all gathered here in particular – the root that sticks out from a nearby courtyard, reaching to the sky in an otherworldly caricature of a skyscraper.

“Have you scouted the area yet?” you hear V ask Nero, bringing the focus of the group back to the mission at hand.

“Not yet, we only got here ten minutes ago,” the white-haired warrior replies.

V nods, flicking his cane out from his body and summoning Griffon with a burst of the familiar black shards. Your eyes can’t help but stare at the beauty of them as they leave his skin, sparkling in the sunlight as they reform into Griffon.

“Hey, gangs all back together, eh?”

“Indeed. Griffon, scout the area. We need to know if this is a safe place to rest,” V instructs his summoned friend.

The bird makes a sound of agreement and flaps away, his blue tail feathers shining.

“So, what’s the plan?” Nico asks to no one in particular.

“We need to find the host for the root and kill it. It will likely be a powerful demon, hence why we are all here together. It shouldn’t be far from the base of the root,” V explains, voice low as his eyes flash.

“Well, once Griffon gets back we should be all set then! Anyone else hungry?” Nero responds and you laugh as you head into the van to make everyone some lunch. Nico follows you, to your surprise.

She grins at you the second the door is closed, almost squealing as she speaks, “Oh my _Gawd_ , what happened? V was right up against ya on that bike, _way_ closer than he needed to be to just hold on. C’mon, did’ja knock boots yet?”

“ _Nico!_ Not so loud!” you exclaim, eyes wide and blushing furiously.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just excited! You’re practically _glowing,_ and I’ve never seen V go so long without looking all broody! C’mon, I’m _dying_ to know! I ain’t getting any, let me live vicariously through you!”

You can’t help but chuckle a little at that, relaxing a bit in Nico’s familiar friendly presence. You had missed her quirkiness, her enthusiasm for life.

“Alright, alright! God, where do I start? It’s been a crazy few days. I mean, I’ve been attracted to him since day one, and according to Griffon he felt the same towards me. We got a lot closer while we were traveling together. Heh, he let me touch his hair, and oh my _gosh_ its like silk! And I swear, it _never gets dirty_! It pisses me off a little bit, to be honest,” you pause as Nico chuckles.

“Yeah, I’d noticed that too, it’s kinda weird. But come one, get to the juicy part!” she urges you once her laughter has abated.

“Last night, we stayed in a house, with a real bed and a shower and even a stove! It was perfect. And we… well… kissed a bit in bed. It was so perfect, he said I taste like _heaven…_ ”

Nico actually lets out a little _squee_ at that and throws her arms around you in a joyful hug, throwing you off balance and the two of you almost topple to the floor. You hug her back, deeply touched by how happy she is for you.

“EEeeee! Oh my GOSH, Y/N! Of course the poetry guy says cheesy shit like that but that’s still so damn adorable! When ya gonna pounce him? I can let you use the van if ya want!”

Your face warms and you know you’ve turned bright red. It’s not like you haven’t _thought_ about sleeping with V, but doing it in Nico’s van? The idea both embarrassed and excited you with its obscenity.

“Ah, that’s really nice of you, but I think we’ll pass. Thanks though!”

She waggles her eyebrows suggestively at you, a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Suit yourself, just lemme know if ya change your mind!”

With that, she heads over to her workstation, whistling happily as she works on her latest creation, another arm for Nero. You check the cupboards and find some cans of chili and set to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Nico, she's the best. Everybody needs a friend like her. 
> 
> Yay for V finally getting some joy! I might try writing that scene from his perspective and posting it as a one-shot, we'll see.
> 
> As always, thank you for your continued support and comments! You guys make my day!
> 
> Next Chapter - Boss Fight!!!


	10. The Taste of Despair Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend everyone! Just a heads up, this chapter includes a serious injury. It isn't described *too* thoroughly, but still... 
> 
> Part 2 will be up later today!

May 31st, 2:12 pm

V

V looks up at the root that is the target of your group, its visage dark and leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

_I hope the demon it’s bound to isn’t too difficult to destroy. We cannot afford to fail._

Nero is standing nearby, his mechanical arm crossed against his remaining flesh and blood arm. The look on the young warriors face is thoughtful as he gazes at V for a long moment.

“What is it?” V finally asks as Nero stares at him for an uncomfortably long moment.

Nero uncrosses his arms and lets out a sigh.

“I don’t know what happened between you and Y/N, and I don’t _wanna_ know. But if you hurt her, I _will_ make you pay. Got it?” Nero states emphatically, a stern glare in his expressive eyes.

V’s eyes widen in surprise at the man’s protective tone. He knew you and Nero were close after he trained you, but this was unexpected. The thought of causing you pain made his stomach twist uncomfortably - causing you pain was the _last_ thing he wanted to do.

“It is not my aim to cause her any pain. You may do with me what you will if I do,” V replies honestly, then continues after a pause, “ ** _Love seeketh not Itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care, But for another gives its ease, And builds a Heaven I Hell’s despair._** ”

Nero stares blankly at him, trying to figure out what he means. He struggles for a moment before V sees his face return to its previous expression of protective concern.

“Look, just… she’s like a _sister_ to me, man. What are your intentions?”

V almost laughs. _First Nico, now Y/N…_ _The man collects sisters._

“I don’t yet know,” he replies earnestly.

“Well, just remember what I said,” Nero says and turns away, wandering off to ready himself for the battle ahead. For a few moments, V is left in peace and he takes the chance to consider Nero’s words.

_What **are** my intentions? All I know is this is more than Vergil ever felt for someone. And it’s inevitable that I hurt her, when I die. That is, assuming she cares for me._

His heart clenches painfully in his chest at the thought. He desperately wants you to care about him, to give him the chance to feel loved. But if it hurts you in the end… He doesn’t want that. The internal conflict rages within him and he almost doesn’t hear it when Griffon’s talons click against metal as he lands on top of the van, having returned from his scouting mission.

V shakes himself, refocusing on the present. “What did you see?”

“Uhhhh… _well_ …it’s a Glutton,” the demonic bird states hesitantly.

V groans internally as he reflects on what he knows of the beasts. They are huge, often the size of a city bus. Known for their insatiable hunger, a Glutton can open its jaws like a snake and devour its foes whole. Their size makes them slow, but a single blow from one of its massive arms would easily kill most men. Due to their _absurd_ mass and density, they could withstand a ridiculous amount of damage before being brought down.

“Ah. Well, that should be interesting,” V articulates calmly, and Nero cracks his knuckles nearby, already itching to fight.  Before the excitable warrior can say anything, his stomach rumbles noisily.

“We should eat first, Nero. We will need all our strength,” V tells him and steps to the van to see if lunch is almost ready or if you need help with it. A wonderful smell greets him as he opens the door and climbs the two steps into the vehicle, making his mouth flood. He spots Nico hard at work on some… _contraption_ behind her counter, you standing at the stove and stirring a pot of the aromatic meal.

“Almost ready, V. Maybe another two or three minutes,” you tell him as he walks up behind you. He waits until Nico turns toward the wall, now unable to see the pair of you, and he steps closer to wrap his arms around you to plant a soft kiss on the crown of your head and eliciting a soft squeak of surprise from your beautiful mouth. He steps back with his signature smirk as Nico turns back toward you two, his hand lingering on your stomach until the last possible moment. He spots a tint on your cheeks as you determinedly keep your eyes on the pot of chili and his heart warms.

“I’ll get some bowls for you,” he says simply and goes to do just that.

Within a few minutes, the four of you are all sitting down to eat, Nico and Nero at the small red table and you with V on the couch. As the group chows down, grunts of enjoyment periodically filling the air, V explains what you’ll be facing at the nearby root.

“This will not be a quick battle. The longer it takes, the greater the risk of injury. Because of that I think Y/N should stay nearby, close enough to help us if something should go wrong,” he concludes.

“Sounds like a good idea to me, but what do you think, Y/N? You up for it?” Nero asks you, leaving the final decision to you alone.

V watches your face, expression shifting from wide-eyed fear to grim resolve as you make the choice he knew you would.

“I’ll be there,” you state simply, voice firm.

________________

May 31st, 4:07 pm

You walk beside Nero and V, one hand gripping your metal bat with a white-knuckled grip, the other holding a strap of your backpack as if to reaffirm its presence. Periodically, V reaches out and touches your arm or shoulder, his touch a warm comfort in your state of cold fear.

The three of you walk two blocks, passing a Mexican restaurant and a few shops on your approach. The closer you get to the root and the Glutton, the worse it smells. The aroma of rotten eggs and hot garbage mixed with feces creates a perfume of filth and you try not to gag, breathing through your mouth when the awful scent gets too strong.

_What on **Earth** could that be from? I’ve never smelled **anything** so foul!_

It gets stronger and stronger as you enter a courtyard, so strong you can _taste it_ , and your eyes shoot open as you spot the source; a monstrously huge humanoid form, its flesh distended and sickeningly bulging around thin straps of cloth wrapped around its limbs. There’s a splash of blood under its chin, evidence of its most recent meal. Its right arm ends in a cruel blade, massive screws holding it in place on its forearm. Another blade sticks out from its hunched back, going through its disgusting flesh and reemerging near where you imagined a tailbone would lie somewhere under the layers of muscle and fat.

But the worst aspect of its horrifying visage was the fact that it looked so _human,_ if you ignored its size. Its skin a normal shade of peach, facial structure resembling one of the cashiers at the grocery store you used to frequent before the city fell into insanity. You find yourself unsure if it’s even a demon; then it opens its mouth, letting out an unearthly howl and you see its jaws open impossibly wide as it uses its one hand to lift what looks like the corpse of an old man to its lips, somehow able to fit the whole thing in its maw. Its cheeks bulge as it swallows viscerally, and you shudder.

 **_Definitely_ ** _a demon._

“Right, Y/N find somewhere to hide where you can see us in case we need your help. V, let’s go kick some ass,” Nero orders as he steps forward, cracking his neck and stretching his arms in preparation. You turn and see a coffee shop on the corner, ducking inside right as Nero speaks. You crouch behind the counter and peek your eyes over to watch the battle unfold, hoping you won’t be needed.

“Hey, ugly! You know, you could _really_ use a bath,” Nero says, waving one hand under his nose mockingly. The beast growls as it turns to face him and V, its face distorting into an expression of rage and hunger as it spots the two men.

“ ** _The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom_** , but I think you may have missed the turn,” V chimes in with a twirl of his cane, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even as he faces away from you.

The Glutton snarls and charges, its massive weight making the ground shake with every step as it dashes at Nero. The white-haired warrior performs a flawless hands-free cartwheel to the side, and the creature skids to a stop where he was just standing. Nero draws his sword and brings it down for a harsh slash, opening the beast’s flesh from its hip to its upper back. It howls again, turning to face the threat.

V flicks his cane out to the side and Shadow springs forth, Griffon following a fraction of a second behind in a burst of black shards. Shadow shifts instantly into her spinning blade form, dashing forward to land a slice on the creature’s chest. Griffon hovers in midair and his form flashes purple for an instant before he releases a spherical cloud of electric energy, scorching the Glutton.

The creature bellows, swatting Griffon and Shadow away and they both shift into small spheres as they hit the harsh pavement, pulsing with light as they float a few feet off the ground. Your heart lurches at the sight of your two summoned friends being hit so hard and you see V’s face go even paler than its normal shade as bile rises in your throat.  Nero unleashes a flurry of strikes, keeping the Glutton’s attention as V limps to the glowing spheres. You hold your breath, unsure if Griffon and Shadow are dead, as V holds a hand over the first sphere. You gasp in relief as a moment later, Shadow bursts back out of the small orb and _roars_. V rushes to the other sphere, panting already, and repeats the process to revive Griffon as Shadow darts forward, a blur of black fury as her body shoots out numerous appendages to strike the Glutton as it focuses on Nero.

Nero somersaults away as the beast brings both its blade and its fist to strike the spot he had been standing, cracking the asphalt instead of Nero’s skull. He taunts it as it turns to face him again.

“Ha, you’ll have to do better than _that!_ ”

The Glutton prepares another charge, bellowing its fury as it runs at Nero again. He hops onto its head as it reaches him, carefully avoiding the blade embedded in the creatures back. He simultaneously presses the small button on his mechanical arm to deploy Bladestorm, slashing through the beast’s meaty shoulder as he drops down to the ground behind it. Griffon dives, cawing curse words as he leaves a deep scratch on the demon’s leg. Shadow follows up, swiping the same spot with her brutal claws, and the creature staggers as its leg almost collapses beneath it. Your eyes flick to watch V, as always staying on the edge of the battle and reading his book of poetry. He snaps the book closed as you watch, his other arm rising high above his head and _snapping_ as he speaks, voice harsh in battle.

“ _Enjoy the taste of despair…”_

V's hair sheds its layer of black, the shards dissipating into thin air to reveal his snow-white locks as Nightmare bursts through the wall behind him. The Glutton takes notice of this new threat, bellowing again and charging right at V and Nightmare. To your horror, V doesn’t move out of the way; instead, he leans over and claps his hands tauntingly. You feel like you’re watching a deadly game of chicken as the beast gets ever closer to V and he still doesn’t get out of the way. You can’t take it and close your eyes, holding your breath and _listening_ for the moment the beast strikes the poet.

You hear an impact, but it’s not what you expected. It sounds almost like gravel shifting and you open your eyes again to see V on Nightmare’s back, its massive fists locked in a stalemate of strength against the Glutton’s arms. You can see V panting and gritting his teeth from the effort to hold the damn thing in place as Nero surges forward with a yell, slashing the legs of the Glutton repeatedly. You think he may just get the massive demon onto its knees when it suddenly _kicks_ back blindly at Nero, its foot hitting him in the chest and sending him flying across the courtyard to hit a lamppost. Even from your distance, you can hear bones crunching as Nero’s spine breaks and he falls to the ground without making a sound.

Your breath leaves you, your stomach and heart clenching painfully tight as you see your friend lying on the ground, body broken beyond your skill to repair. Tears fall freely from your eyes and you curl into yourself, already mourning both Nero and…

_V... God, no… He’s going to **die** and there’s nothing I can do. I’m useless, **always** so fucking useless. It should have been **me** that died, not them. It’s never enough, I’m never enough, I’m never enough, never enough, never enough, neverenoughneverenoughneverenough…_

You start pounding your head against the counter, sobbing and hating yourself for your utter failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muahahaha, enjoy the cliffhanger!!! 
> 
> Here's the art I based the Glutton off of - https://www.austenmengler.com/store/gluttonator-print
> 
> Some pretty amazing artwork in his repertoire, gotta say!
> 
> As always, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos! I love hearing from you guys so much!
> 
> Next Chapter - Part 2 of this nonsense!


	11. The Taste of Despair Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two!!!!!! Time to find out how screwed everyone is :D
> 
> There is a *little bit* of NSFW partway through.
> 
> Enjoy!

May 31st, 4:49 pm

V

Nightmare still holds the beast in place, V grunting from the effort, sweat pouring down his face. Griffon and Shadow shoot tiny balls of lightning and slash at the massive creature, circling it. Out of the corner of his eye, V sees Nero move, his arm slipping into his coat pocket and pulling a tiny golden crystal out. He watches as Nero eats it, chewing the hard rock until it shatters. He lets out a loud whoop as he impossibly rolls over and leaps to his feet, spine miraculously intact.

_Took you long enough. Get over here and help me._

Nero _laughs_ as he sprints forward, bladed arm extended at the demon. The Bladestorm sinks into the demon’s sizeable knee, and Nero _twists,_ breaking the spikes into its body. The Glutton howls in agony as Nero clenches the metal fist and punches its wounded knee, finally bringing it down to one knee in Nightmare’s death grip, giving the golem an advantage at long last.

V doesn’t waste the opportunity, commanding Nightmare expertly from its back to release the creature’s meaty hands and spin in place, both massive fists hitting their foe in rapid succession.

“Nero, _get back!_ ” V shouts and Nero instantly dashes away, giving Nightmare the freedom to shoot a thin beam of energy at the pavement below the Glutton, Everywhere the beam hits explodes a fraction of a second later, jets of flame and smoke shrouding the demon from sight. V can see Nightmare still throwing its gigantic fists into the smoke, punches landing in a meaty symphony of death.

Suddenly, the strain of having all three of his summons out at once is too much. V tries desperately to keep a hold on Nightmare, but he just can’t maintain the strength anymore and it starts to dissolve. He leaps off its back, landing a dozen feet away and quickly stepping even further from the hulking mass of demon as Nightmare bubbles into nothingness and V’s hair regains its obsidian hue.

He watches as Griffon and Shadow give the Glutton everything they’ve got as it braces itself on its bladed arm, rising back to its feet. It prepares to charge, seemingly ignoring the shafts of sharp metal still embedded in its knee. V has a desperate moment of clarity as it moves in his direction.

 _“Nero, now!”_ V shouts hoarsely at the top of his lungs as the beast narrowly misses him with its main attack. Its left arm shoots at V as he deftly dodges the charge, and the mighty fist hits him in his hip. He crumples to the ground, grunting in pain. He can’t breathe as the Glutton’s jaw opens, its fist reaching forward to devour him.

_Come ON, Nero! Now or never!_

He can sense Griffon shooting to Nero and taking his arm, lifting him high as he grips his lethal sword one-handed. Griffon brings him right over the Glutton and Nero drops right onto its shoulders, wrapping his legs around its neck and letting out a hoarse roar of defiance as he sinks his sword directly into the foul thing’s skull, the blade piercing flesh until the hilt is against it and it can go no further.

V crawls as fast as he can away from the beast as it wavers for a moment before it falls to the ground, its weight causing a boom loud enough to make him think of jets breaking the sound barrier. He pulls his feet to his chest as the beast lands, narrowly avoiding his legs getting smashed. Nero hangs on for dear life, only letting go after the horrible thing settles.

The two battle-weary men stare at the Glutton, breathing hard from exertion. A sound like rocks breaking makes them look up to see the nearby Qlipoth root turn grey, chunks of it breaking off and crashing to the ground until there’s nothing left of it. They both breathe a sigh of relief.

V’s injured hip is on fire, but he manages to stand and carefully puts a little weight on it. No change, so hopefully nothing’s broken. He looks to the coffee shop, expecting to see you coming out to celebrate the victory with him and Nero, but you’re nowhere to be seen.

“Nero, where’s Y/N?” he asks worriedly.

“In the coffee shop last I saw her,” the young warrior responds.

V starts limping towards the shop, his shaking legs struggling to keep him vertical. Nero follows close behind, ready to catch him if he should fall but not saying a word, for which V is very grateful.

“Y/N? It’s okay, you can come out now,” Nero calls out as they enter the shop. V glances around, thinking of where you might have hidden. He goes straight to the counter and finds you curled up in a ball, sobbing silently and shaking.

“Y/N? It’s alright, we won,” V whispers gently, but you don’t even glance at him.

_Something isn’t right._

He rounds the counter, coming to crouch in front of you. He reaches out, tilting your chin until your terrified gaze is on his emerald eyes. You stare right at him but don’t seem to register his presence.

“What’s wrong with her?” Nero asks, joining the lean poet. His forehead is creased with concern as he takes in your state.

“I’m not sure. She can’t seem to hear me, or see me,” V replies. He looks back to you, the tears still falling like rain in Seattle, and drops to his knees, his cane hitting the tile with a clatter. He reaches out with both arms and pulls you into a tight embrace, one hand rubbing your back and the other holding your head against the crook of his neck.

“Shhh… I’ve got you, it’s alright, it’s over,” he whispers in your ear.

He feels you twitch in his arms, then hiccup as the tears start to slow down. He leans back to look you in the eye, and he can see the spark of recognition this time.

“ _Nero_ … he’s…” you whisper, so quiet V had to watch your lips to confirm you even spoke and suddenly he understands.

“Nero, come here. She needs to see you,” he commands, turning to the young man. Nero steps into your field of vision and you gasp. V releases you so you can stand, and you immediately walk on unsteady legs to Nero. You look at him in wonder, as if you don’t believe he’s real, then wrap him in a hug as you start to sob in his jacket.

“I… _I saw you die_! I saw you hit the lamppost and I heard your _spine break! How..?_ ” you hoarsely cry out as Nero embraces you in return. V feels a pang in his chest at the sight, an urge to rip you out of Nero’s arms and kiss you, claim you as _his_ , crosses his mind but he ignores it.

“I used a golden crystal to heal myself. They’re incredibly rare, it was the only one I had,” he responds softly. Your face shows every emotion as you process this new information – confusion, surprise, wonder, and finally rage.

“Why haven’t I heard about them before? I could have saved _so many people_ with something like that at the hospital!” your broken voice demands angrily.

“They only work on those with a connection to Hell, people who have demon blood or have been there before. Otherwise, they do nothing,” V answers gently as he stands again, leaning heavily on his cane.

You sniff heavily, tears finally stopping as your arms sag around Nero’s body. You look up at him, a soft smile on your face. He looks down at you and uses his flesh arm to wipe the tears away, and you hug him tightly once more as you speak. V’s heart twists painfully at the sight.

_I thought she only smiled like that at **me** …_

“I’m so glad you had one, Nero. I was so scared,” you say and finally step away from Nero. The fist compressing V’s heart relaxes slightly but not by much.

“We should head back now,” he says, trying to ignore his strange feelings for now. Nero nods and looks at you again.

“You ready, Y/N?” he asks you kindly, and you smile again and nod. The three of you set out once more, walking back to Nico’s van in total silence, each of you preoccupied with your thoughts.

_This is absurd. It makes no sense to be envious. I have no claim to her; she doesn’t **belong** to me._

_…but I wish she did._

_________________  
_

 A block from the van, V falls to the ground. You rush to him, immediately concerned.

“Are you alright, V?” you inquire.

“The Glutton landed a hit on my hip… I don’t think anything’s broken but I can walk no further today,” he admits, looking away in embarrassment. You wave Nero off as he approaches and lean down to take V’s arm, pulling it over your shoulders. He grunts in pain as you stand but after a moment he manages to help you carry him the rest of the way to Nico’s van. You lace your fingers with his as you carry him and he smirks at you, an amused sparkle in his emerald eyes.

Upon reaching the van, Nero raps a knuckle on the side as you set V down gently on a conveniently located chuck of rubble. Nico comes running out a moment later, a worried look in her eyes that transforms into a wide grin the moment she realizes everyone made it back safely.

“Whew, good to see y’all! I tell you, it sucks hanging out and waiting, nerve-wracking!” she says cheerfully.

“Maybe next time we can switch? You go fight the big bad and we wait for you to get back?” Nero teasingly asks her.

“Uhhh… fair point,” Nico replies quickly, clearly not interested in fighting.

You turn your attention back to V. Now that you’re calm again, you need to check his hip for a fracture or worse, a break.

“V, I’m taking you inside so I can take a look at that hip,” you order him, not giving him a chance to pretend he’s fine. He seems to know what you’re thinking, because he smirks at you as you go to help him inside. Nico gives you a look, waggling her eyebrows and Nero just shakes his head at her antics.

You bring V to the couch, lying him down in such a way that you can easily reach his injured hip. You sit on the floor next to him and gently place your hands over the injured area, eliciting a small grunt from V.

“Tender?” you ask him.

He shakes his head as he answers, “Just pain.”

You carefully probe his hip bone, checking for any obvious breaks and you let out a small sigh of relief when you find none. V grimaces and grits his teeth the whole time.

“I need to visually inspect it too. Can you get your pants off or do you need help?” you ask him, trying and failing to contain a pink tint in your cheeks. He smirks at you again.

_Dammit V, not the time!_

“I wouldn’t mind _your_ assistance…” he answers with a chuckle. You shake off your embarrassment, roll your eyes and reach for his belt. Your mind decides it’s a good time to remind you of how easily he removed it that night before climbing the fire truck, his hands so nimble and quick…

Your hands tremble slightly as you unbuckle his belt and move on to his button and zipper. V lets out a low, seductive groan as you pull his zipper down and the sound makes you blush heavily, to his obvious amusement. You’re as gentle as you can possibly be as you pull his pants down below his hips, his briefs stubbornly staying on. The style leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination and for a moment you freeze at the sight of his package. He notices you looking and your eyes widen as he visibly gets harder before your very eyes.

“That is _so_ unfair, V…” you complain and he grins at you, making your heart melt. You pause in your medical activities to lean over and kiss his smiling lips. You had intended to give him just a quick peck, but he growls against your lips, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck and pull you deeper. His tongue flicks out, barely touching your lips but you open to him nonetheless with a moan of your own. The feeling of his tongue entering your mouth, exploring you and tasting you, goes straight to your core and you run one of your hands through his silky hair, giving it a soft pull as you pull away reluctantly.

“ _Troublemaker_ …” you mumble to him.

“Only for you, little fox…” he growls back.

The jerk is fully hard as you go back to trying to remove his briefs, the tight fit making it difficult to do so without jostling his hip. He hisses as you finally manage to get them below his hips, and you catch your breath at the sight of his slim frame, hard cock standing at attention before you. With a force of will you didn’t know you possessed, you move your gaze to inspect his hip. There’s a huge bruise, purple and angry looking. It’s already a little bit swollen. You lay your hands over the bruised area and feel the muscles and tendons beneath the skin, making V hiss again.

“Sorry…” you say apologetically.  You still can’t feel any actual damage, so you pull your hands away.

“How long have I got, doctor?” V teases you.

You glare at him and roll your eyes when he just smirks at you.

“It’s not broken. I don’t think its fractured, so my best guess is you tore something. I think we have some ibuprofen, that should help with the pain and swelling. You’ll want to sleep with it elevated tonight too and use your cane until the pain goes down. Walking might hurt for a few days but you should be fine after that,” you explain to the lanky poet.

“Thank you, Y/N. Would you care to examine my other… not-so-little problem?” he replies, voice low as he glances at his still hard cock.

“ _Nico and Nero are right outside!_ No way!” you exclaim, blushing furiously but also _very_ turned on by the idea. He pouts at you but you stand firm, reaching down to pull his briefs back on.

“Can’t blame me for trying. Maybe another time, then?”

You shake your head but answer, “Yes, another time for sure.”

You’re forced to hold his cock down as you pull his clothes back on and he groans deeply at your touch and you _almost_ feel bad. Almost.

Once he’s fully clothed again, you dig through your bag for some ibuprofen. You give him two tablets and get him some water, giving him a peck as you hand it to him. His hand rises and grips your thigh, drifting higher until he gives your ass a soft smack. You make a small squeak of surprise and look down at him again.

“You are _merciless_ today.”

“Once one has tasted heaven, how can he not pursue its flavor?” he murmurs, giving you a wink. Luckily there’s a knock on the door before you have a chance to respond. With V fully clothed again, you go to open the door and find Nero waiting outside.

“He gonna be okay?” the young warrior asks.

“He’ll be fine, just needs some rest I think,” you answer him and he nods, the look of concern on his face fading somewhat. He glances away for a moment, thoughtful before he speaks again carefully.

“ _You_ gonna be okay? After… earlier?”

The question catches you off-guard, though you should have expected it. Normal people didn’t behave the way you had after the battle. Unseeing. Unhearing. Broken beyond repair. It had been years since your last episode, you had almost believed you had worked through it until today. You grimace, unsure how to explain it, or even if you should.

“Look, you don’t have to tell me what was going on in your head. I just.. y’know… wanna make sure you’re good now,” Nero says at the long pause. He blushes just a tiny bit and you almost laugh at his discomfort.

“I’ll be fine. It was a one-time thing, no worries,” you answer with a strained smile. It’s a lie, but you hope he can’t tell. You don’t want him to worry about something he can’t do anything about.

“If you say so. Just… I’m here if you need anything. So is Nico,” he says kindly.

“Thank you, Nero. That’s really nice to hear,” you answer him, touched, and he nods once, turns around and walks back to where Nico sits with a cigarette dangling from her lips. You wave at her before going back inside to keep V company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah, everyone lived! It was such a blast writing a boss fight, whew! Can hardly wait to write the next one ;)
> 
> I feel like I'm kinda mean to V, but I swear I actually love him so much. V > Kylo Ren, there I said it! (though they are two of my favorites, I think it's something about that hairstyle lol)
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and for your kind words and feedback! High fives to everyone reading this, you are amazing and I love you!
> 
> Next Chapter - V's recovery, and after that I DON'T KNOW I HAVEN'T WRITTEN THIS PART YET OMG!!!! Will probably be up on Monday or Tuesday at the latest.


	12. Staking a Claim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning, readers! I want to take a moment to thank you all for checking out my fic, it's now at 900 hits and I'm over the moon about it! 
> 
> On a side note, I am cleaning up some of the earlier chapters, making sure they are coherent and make sense. If there are any major changes to the plot I will let you know, but so far all that's been changed is that Reader grabbed some booze at Frank's. It has not been used yet.
> 
> Quick thank you to Alex (<3) Thanks for putting up with my strange obsession with a fictional character. This chapter is dedicated to and partially inspired by you.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!

June 1st, 8:45 pm

V

If it wasn’t for the motorcycle, V would have been driving himself mad worrying about the delay his injury was causing. Instead, he found himself able to enjoy just sitting and talking with you for hours, dutifully swallowing another dose of painkillers whenever the pain came back. It was… nice. He felt almost like a normal person.

_She even fed me dinner._

He stifles a yawn as you fetch him another dose of ibuprofen. He _hates_ sleeping, it takes up too much of his already limited amount of time. Most nights he gets less than five hours of rest, spending the rest of the time reading or quietly talking to Griffon.

Tonight, however, he knew you would insist on him getting a full nights rest, going so far as to have set up a small sleeping pad on the floor next to the couch where he lied. He didn’t mind; it meant you would be within arms reach all night. The thought makes him smile softly to himself.

_How odd, that simply having Y/N nearby brings me comfort._

He is still grappling with his emotional reaction to seeing you hug Nero. He reminds himself that the young warrior himself had told him you were like a sister to him, yet still… seeing your arms wrapped around another man had been distasteful. He didn’t begrudge your friendship with Nero either, he was glad you had others who would be there for you after he was…

_Gone._

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted when you step into the van from fetching him a bit of water and painkillers. You smile at him as you sit down on your sleeping pad, handing him the medicine once you’re firmly seated.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he murmurs and quickly gulps the pills down, draining the cup of water you had brought him for good measure.

“Of course, V. Ready to get some sleep?” you respond and he almost sighs at the thought of all the wasted hours.

“Already? It’s not even dark yet,” he reminds you.

“You need extra rest to heal faster, though. How about this, I’ll read you the Book of Thel until you fall asleep. I’m assuming its in your book?”

_She remembers my favorite poem._

His heart surges with affection and he pulls the small book from his hidden pocket in his vest, handing it to you with a smile.

“I’d like that very much,” he states and settles back into the couch to listen, pleased and curious to hear you recite. You take a minute to find the correct page and clear your throat before beginning.

“ ** _The daughters of Mne Seraphim led round their sunny flocks. All but the youngest; she in paleness sought the secret air._** ”

Your voice is melodious and sweet, rhythmic and soothing. He listens quietly to the first few verses before extending an arm to rest it on your shoulder. He stays awake for as long as he can, but your voice lulls him to a peaceful slumber before you can finish more than four stanzas.

________________

June 4th, 8:12 am

You force V to wait another few days before the two of you get ready to move on, much to his frustration. You’re thankful that for whatever reason, he doesn’t shut you out this time. Instead, the two of you spend the time either reading his book together or simply talking, holding each other close whenever Nico and Nero aren’t in the van with you.

Nero spent his days in the field hunting demons and each night he brought back tales of his exploits along with a freshly damaged mechanical arm. Each night, Nico would berate him for damaging her artwork, then resign herself to repairing the damn thing again. They had such an odd dynamic, but it was always funny to watch.

Finally, you approve V to leave the little campsite, much to his relief. You knew the delay was a constant worry in his mind, always considering how much time you had left before it was too late to stop Urizen, always weighing the odds of success and failure. At one point yesterday, he had voiced his concerns to you.

“Even a one on a million likelihood of success is better than _none_ in a million, and that’s what our chances will be if you don’t let yourself heal properly,” you had insisted vehemently. The memory of his shocked expression shifting into thoughtfulness makes you chuckle as you pack a few extra snacks for the road. Your thoughts shift to Griffon’s strange warning about some secret V was keeping from you, turning your amused smile to a tight frown. You still haven’t mentioned it to him, unsure how to bring it up.

You try to tell yourself you aren’t scared of what the answer could be, not wanting to break the spell of the last few days spent together. But you know deep down, the truth is you’re terrified.

_What could he possibly be hiding? I mean, yeah, he holds a lot back, but what could be so bad that he would deliberately hide it?_

You could think of several possibilities that might be considered embarrassing or painful, but none that you couldn’t accept. Perhaps it was a failure of imagination on your part, not wanting to imagine V in a way that you couldn’t accept him, but you try to tell yourself otherwise.

_I can’t hide from this forever; eventually I’ll have to ask him._

You can admit to yourself that you’ve been putting it off partially because you’re concerned he might simply refuse to tell you, maybe even go so far as to shut you out again.

_He promised he’d never do that again._

You let out a long sigh, trying to push your troubled thoughts away and focus on the moment. The anxiety tugs at your consciousness from the corner of your mind you shoved it in, but you refuse to let it consume you.

You are shaken from your reverie as Nero enters the van, about to head out for the day again. His heavy footsteps shake the vehicle and wake up Nico from her roost.

“Nico, I’m heading out! See ya later!” he shouts from the doorway, to a long groan from Nico’s bunk overhead.

“Don’t break nothin’…” she mumbles and you crack a grin, knowing Nero will probably return with yet another busted arm.

“Bye Nero! Be safe,” you tell him, and he gives you a salute as he closes the door and leaves. You chuckle as you toss your now fully packed backpack over your shoulder and grab your baseball bat. You glance down at it with a smile, seeing Nico’s handiwork. You can’t wait to try it out.

“We’re heading out too, Nico! See you in a few days!” you call out, slightly quieter than Nero’s announcement. She groans again and you smile as you follow Nero outside.

The morning is bright and clear; a good day for riding. You see Nero trotting away, eager to get started, and shake your head at his enthusiasm as you approach V where he stands waiting for you by the bike. He’s definitely better, but still favors his injured hip slightly. Thankfully, his shoulder injury is almost to the point where you don’t need to bandage it anymore, the sutures having done their job and helped his flesh seal. He smiles warmly at you as you reach his side.

“All set?” he asks you and you nod, already reaching for your helmet. His hand stops you and he pulls you into an embrace, his deceptively lean arm holding you against him forcefully as he presses his lips against yours in a firm kiss. You melt into him, your free arm running up his back to rest at the nape of his neck to hold him against you. His arm slides lower to grip your ass and you groan into his mouth as you open your own to his probing tongue. After a delicious moment of enjoying his unique flavor, he pulls back, panting slightly through his still-parted lips.

“For luck,” he says with a slight twist of his lips.

“I _definitely_ feel lucky now,” you respond, equally breathless as you try to gather yourself. He chuckles and hands you your helmet, donning his own alongside you. The two of you climb onto the motorcycle and it roars to life beneath you as you twist the key. V wraps his arms around your waist, leaning his chest against your back in a comforting embrace as you put the bike into gear and smoothly pull away from Nico’s van.

For the next few hours, the only sound is the roar of the engine between your legs and the wind rushing by you as you begin your journey to the next root. You keep an eye on the fuel gauge as you go, watching it drop from half a tank to slightly less than a quarter as you make rapid progress toward your goal.

Occasionally you can see Nero in the distance, battling his way to meet you and V to take down whatever demon the next root has bonded with. Once the bike’s fuel runs out, you imagine the three of you will travel together and you smile at the prospect of having V and Nero with you.

_I still need to ask him about whatever Griffon was talking about…_

Once again your mind tries to imagine what V could possibly be hiding, but with so little information you can’t truly make any guesses as to what it could be.

_I’ll ask him tonight when we stop._

Anxiety rises in your mind as you make the decision. You’re still terrified that V will shut you out again or refuse to tell you. The memory of his silence chills you to the bone; you couldn’t bear it if he were to repeat his behavior, not after what the two of you have shared. You try to figure out a way to ask him for the truth, trying to find the right combination of words, but nothing sounds quite right in your mind. A voice deep within you reminds you that he’s not the only one holding back – you haven’t told him much about your own past either. As much as you believed you deserved to hear the truth from him, he also deserved it from you.

You cringe at the thought of telling him about your most painful memories. It’s never an easy story to share, likely never will be.  You’ve only ever told the full tale once, and it had not been received well. _Hopefully V will be more understanding._

For a moment you’re amazed at how quickly you’ve come to care for the lean poet, how much his opinion of you has come to matter – _has it really been less than three weeks since he saved my life?_

Your stomach lets out a rumble, shaking you from your thoughts. You pull into the parking lot of a bank, parking easily. There’s a few of those horrible husks in front of the ATM; people caught outside when the Qlipoth struck. Your heart clenches at the sight, as always grateful that you didn’t share their fate.

“Ready for lunch?” you ask V as you turn off the engine.

“Absolutely,” he answers as the two of you dismount. He still stands a little awkwardly.

“How does your hip feel?”

“Still a bit tender, but much better. I don’t think riding aggravated it, at least,” he replies with a grimace as he removes his helmet, and you try not to stare at his hair falling back into place. _He doesn’t even get helmet hair. Dude… SO not fair._

The sunlight casts a long shadow of your bodies as you sit on the curb, an echo of human existence in the silent city around you. The warmth on your skin from the sun’s rays is a comfort amidst the cold reality, the husks a glaring reminder that all is not as it seems.

You hand V a pack of beef jerky and some peanuts, taking a small bag of cookies out to split and helping yourself to some crackers and peanut butter.

All too soon, the pair of you climb back onto the motorcycle to cover a bit more ground before stopping for the night. You’re down to the last quarter tank now; you may be back to walking by the end of tomorrow and the thought makes you scowl, not looking forward to the constant battles you’ll be returning to.

_Maybe I can find another bar, get us a new ride… Or we could check some houses. Somebody’s got to have keys lying around, right?_

By the time the sun begins to set, you’re running on the last few dregs of the tank. You run out of gas in a commercial area, much to your dismay. Finding a pair of keys here would be difficult, not to mention matching them to a vehicle. Even worse, there are no easy spots to rest for the night; the stores mostly feature clothing or food, no department stores or furniture shops in the area.

“V, we could just pile up some clothes in one of these shops, sleep in that for tonight,” you say after the second block passes with no change to your dismal prospects. He nods, clearly tired by the day and leaning on his cane to favor his injured hip. You stop at the next clothing shop and find the doors locked. You sigh but easily break one of the display windows, only knocking over one of the stylishly dressed mannequins as you find your way into the main area and unlock the door for V shortly thereafter.

Together, you and V pull a truly absurd amount of cloth off of the racks, piling it up in the corner of the shop to fashion an odd sort of nest. You find some heavier coats and bring them to use as blankets, some soft t-shirts forming pillows. The misshapen pile of rainbow cloth is surprisingly comfortable as you settle in beside V for the night, his arms pulling you close to him and wrapping around you in a warm embrace.

Your tired mind struggles to remember – there was something important you had to tell him, to ask him… _What was it?_

The thoughts escapes you as V idly traces a pattern only he can see on your ribcage. You close your eyes as the sensation of his soft fingertips lulls you into slumber.

 ________________

June 5th, 9:05 am

The good weather continues into the next morning, the bright sun peeking through the front displays and waking you and V gently. Looking into his sleepy eyes, you lean forward to kiss him softly. Waking up with his arms holding you close, your head against his mesmerizingly tattooed chest… It is everything you’ve ever wanted.           

He smiles against your lips for a moment before kissing you back, his mouth molding to fit against yours as if he was refusing to let even a single atom come between you. He weaves his long fingers in your hair gently, other hand rubbing small circles into your lower back as his tongue dips out to taste you. You compliantly open your mouth to him and a shiver of anticipation and pleasure courses through your body as your tongues meet.

Just as you reach down to unlace his vest, he pulls away. You smirk at the expression on his face; a slight blush, glassy eyes, parted lips breathing heavily into the morning air. Seeing the effect you have on him gives you a surge of confidence, of _power._

“We’d better get moving, Y/N,” he says breathily, and you nod your reluctant agreement.

V’s arms retreat away from you, but before he can pull back fully you smile wickedly and press your hips against his, feeling his arousal. His eyes close and a low moan escapes him as you carefully stand in your nest of bright clothing and stretch, purposefully exaggerating your curves and making suggestive moans of your own as your muscles wake up.

“If you insist…” you murmur softly to the poet as he stands as well. You can’t see his face but you hear his sharp intake of breathe as you reach for your toes, blatantly showing off your firm ass. You hold the stretch longer than you need to, curious to see his reaction.

He reaches out a hand and caresses your raised ass before giving it a solid spank. You squeak and stand again to face him.

“Such a naughty girl, keep that up and I’ll have to punish you accordingly. Is that what you want, little fox?” he growls out, a sparkle of lustful excitement in his emerald eyes.

The images that fill your mind at his words leave you breathless, your core twitching its enthusiastic approval of the idea. You decide to get one last tease in, wanting to have the last word in this strange contest of wills. As you brush past him to get your bag, you casually sweep your hand against his still hard cock, giving him your best _“come and get me”_ smile. His hips jerk into your hand at the contact and he blushes, his quiet gasp music to your ears.

“Maybe tonight we should stop early?” you ask him innocently.

“I believe we can afford a short delay…” he responds with a smirk.

You smile back at him as you grab your backpack, quickly tossing him a breakfast bar and grabbing one for yourself. You grasp your baseball bat in your other hand as the two of you head outside into the morning air. You think back to Griffon’s warning again as V summons the mouthy demon, instructing him to scout ahead for any threats. As Griffon flies away, you ask V a probing question, testing the waters for when you inevitably asked him for the whole story.

“How did you learn to summon them?”

He doesn’t answer at first, taking a moment to think as the two of you follow Griffon. You wonder if he’s going to shut you out again instead of answering, but he takes your hand in his as you walk and you breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, he speaks.

“In a way, I have had them since birth. It took a moment of intense fear and vulnerability for me to summon them for the first time. Once the danger had passed, I tried for several days to bring them forth before I succeeded,” he answers you cryptically.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at his half answer.

_Why does he make it like pulling teeth to find out about his past?_

“A moment of fear and vulnerability? What happened to you, V?” you persist.

“I witnessed a mans transformation into something terrible. I will speak no more about it,” he replies, eyes tight and jaw clenched. You can see how much the memory pains him and your heart wrenches in sympathy.

“Okay. It might help to talk to someone about it though. I’d be happy to listen if you change your mind,” you inform him earnestly and fall silent, not wanting to press the issue any further right now.

“If the time comes when I’m ready to speak on it, I will come to you,” he answers with a small smile, and you squeeze his hand in yours as you walk on.

For a time neither of you speak, each lost in your own thoughts.

_I should tell him. I want him to know, need him to know. Just open your mouth, and say the words. Come on, it’s not that hard. Just say it!_

“I watched my best friend get murdered because of something I did,” you manage to choke out, and your heart becomes a stone in your gut as you wait for V to respond, but he says nothing and the silence stretches on. A tear falls from your eye as you walk onwards and your breath hitches as you speak again.

“I could have saved her, could have spoken up and taken responsibility, but I didn’t. I just stood there and watched him strangle her. I’ll never forget the sounds she made. She… she deserved better,” you tell him, voice cracking and body trembling as you relive that moment in your mind, the gurgling breaths she took as she stared at you over his shoulder, pleading with you to save her. The tears that fell from her eyes as she realized you weren’t going to. The way she had scratched and kicked at him, desperate to free herself from his cruel grip. The sound of her last gasp as she died. And the terror her frozen face still showed when the man had dropped her lifeless body in front of you as a warning not to fuck up like she did.

The next thing you know, long, tattooed arms are crushing you in an embrace, holding your crying form against V’s shoulder. You sob into the leather of his vest, letting yourself feel the sorrow you keep buried so deep inside yourself. His hands stroke your back, your hair and he makes low shushing sounds but you can’t seem to stop crying. Low wails escape your throat, your heart feeling like it stopped beating the day hers did.

After what feels like several hours pass, your sobs finally quiet and the tears dry up. You’re still shaking in V’s arms as he begins to speak, his voice barely a whisper against your trembling body.

“I killed my brother,” he tells you and you feel a tear fall from his eye onto the crown of your head. He shakes as you wrap your arms around him, returning his embrace in a moment of shared mourning. You stroke his back soothingly and wait, not willing to risk saying something that would make him retreat and close himself off from you.

“He and I fought almost constantly. I doubt either of us really knew why after so long. A few years ago, I found him living nearby and sent him a message, an invitation. The fool actually showed up. I don’t remember what was said or who struck first, but at the end my brother lay on the ground before me, dead,” he continues shakily and then falls silent in your arms.

It takes a long time, but eventually both you and V stop crying, only sniffles remaining and the occasional sob as you both reach the point of emotional exhaustion. The calm peace of release fills you as you reach out to wipe the poet’s tears away gently.

“Aren’t we a pair, then? We might be the only two people in the world who can understand what the other has been through,” you tell him with a wry smile and he lets out a bark of laughter.

“Indeed, little fox. Thank you for the gift of truth you have given me,” he responds as he wipes your tears away. He leans down and kisses your forehead, a gentle comfort as you pick up the pieces of your heart and keep moving forward.

 ________________

V

The half-truth had felt like acid on his tongue, his skin prickling in discomfort at keeping the truth from you. His brother may be dead, but it wasn’t _that_ day that Dante died. It’s true he doesn’t remember what was said or who struck first, but implying his brother had died at his own hand on the Temen-Ni-Gru was a blatant falsehood.

_A necessary one. She needed to hear it, needed to know she isn’t alone._

He wondered who “the man” was, who had strangled your friend. If he knew, he would utterly destroy them for causing you pain, tear them limb from limb and make them watch. His heart howls its approval of his thought, his desire to protect you from any and every source of pain coming to the front of his mind.

_The more she cares for me, the more it will hurt her when I die. I’m going to cause her pain. Of that there is no doubt. Remember how she reacted to Nero’s injury? And they’re only friends. My death will hurt her even more._

He clenches his teeth and tries to tell himself the thought is born of sheer arrogance – he _can’t_ know how much or even _if_ his death will hurt you. For all he knows, the teasing and touches you had shared meant nothing to you. He _is_ the only single man you’ve encountered since the day of the attack. Perhaps it was simply a lack of options.

Shame fills him at the thought, a wretched black feeling of uncleanliness. He knows you better than that. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he redirects his attention on the buildings surrounding the two of you.

_This city is entirely too large. They built out instead of up._

Even as his eyes drift higher, he hears Griffon returning at last. The powerful bird glides over to land on his outstretched arm, ruffling his feathers once his weight settles.

“Jeez, Shakespeare! Calm down, I’m getting secondhand _feelings_ off ya here!” the brilliantly colored avian exclaims.

_Well. That’s new. I suppose I’ll have to be more careful with my thoughts._

“Apologies. What did you see, my friend?” V asks him.

“A couple hordes of Empusa, one or two have Queens. Some Caina activity to the north, and a few Antenora’s to boot. It’s all pretty spread out, so you might be able to skip some of it if you’re lucky,” Griffon replies, then starts to preen his chest feathers.

“What’s an Antenora?’ you ask quietly.

“They’re the type of demon that caused _this_ ,” V responds and taps his nearly healed shoulder injury. “They aren’t too much for us to handle if we’re prepared.”

“Don’t let em hit ya, and hit them with everything you’ve got!” Griffon adds with a chuckle.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you say to the bird as you roll your eyes. Griffon splutters for a moment, trying to come up with a comeback, but before he can say anything V flicks his wrist and Griffon bursts into a cloud of black shards, returning to V’s body.

“Shall we?” he asks you, waving a hand toward the path forward.

“Guess there’s no point putting it off…” you respond with a shake of your head. You hitch your backpack up, making sure it’s secure, and start walking. V follows close behind, still favoring his injured hip slightly.

It’s been less than two blocks when the first attack comes, the red webbing stretching from one building to the next and preventing any escape. Out of the corner of his eye, V sees you take your baseball bat in both hands, making sure you have a good grip on the new weapon. As the grey portals open, he flicks his cane out to the side, bringing forth Griffon and Shadow in a tempest of black shards. The demons claw their way through; three Caina and two Antenora’s.

_We might need Nightmare. I’ll have to conserve my energy where I can._

An Antenora near you takes a swing with one of its cleavers, leaving itself wide open to your counterattack as you deftly dodge the blow. You swing your bat with all your strength, pressing the small button below your thumb upon impact and toward the end of the bat, a small compartment opens to reveal a buzzing chainsaw head. The blades cut through the Antenora’s flesh as you drag the weapon back for another swing, and V looks back to his own battle.

Griffon and Shadow are already on the second Antenora, their combined attacks bring it to near death within seconds, and V streaks forward to deal the final blow.

“ _Fall into Hell,”_ he croons in his harsh battle tone as it dissolves.

He glances back to check on you; you’re in the middle of dodging another slash from the Antenora’s cleaver, ducking at the perfect moment and rolling to it’s now exposed side to land another savage blow with your chainsaw-bat. V grins, turning back to clean up the Caina’s.

They’re clumped together, not far from where the portals first appeared. He smirks and sends a command to Griffon, the demonic bird quickly releasing a storm of lightning bolts across the Caina’s. With a single thought, V sends Shadow in as well, her body morphing into a mass of black spikes amongst the demons. All three of the Caina are ready for his deliverance.

_I’d hate to keep them waiting…_

He leaps into the air, spreading his arms wide to summon ghostly copies of his cane. With a swift jerk of his arm, they sink into the flesh of the demons below, eradicating all three in the same instant. As he lands, he looks over to you again.

The last Antenora has you against a wall, but the look on your face tells him not to worry. You raise your chainsaw-bat high over your head as the demon prepares another swing, but you strike faster, the blades of the chainsaw shredding its flesh like tissue paper. You let out a howl of triumph as it dissolves. Your eyes immediately shoot to V and he applauds your efforts as you walk over to join him.

“Well done, Y/N,” he says, reaching out to tuck an errant lock of hair out of your face. You step closer, narrowing the gap between you to an inch.

“Shadow, don’t look! You’re too young!” Griffon teases from his perch nearby, and Shadow roars in response. V’s eyes snap to the two summoned creatures and they instantly lose their forms and return to his body in a whirlwind of black shards.

“Where were we?” he asks you with a smirk. You roll your eyes and give him a playful swat on the shoulder before leaning in for a kiss of victory.

_I swear I will never tire of this._

Your lips are soft on his, gentle and inviting. He grips your shoulders and pulls you closer, opening his mouth and teasing your bottom lip with his tongue until you open.

_Heaven…_

__________________

 June 5th, 12:47 pm

The rest of the morning passes uneventfully, and you and V progress quickly through the last of the shopping district. You pause to eat lunch outside a small café, the outdoor seating even giving you a moment to rest in the shade. Lunch today is an assortment of odds and ends, snacks you’ve yet to make use of.

You grin lightly after eating and kick off one of your shoes to run your toes up V’s leg across from you. His emerald gaze flicks up to look at you through his dark eyelashes, smirking as your toes drift higher and higher to his lap. You graze your foot across his inner thigh and he bites his lower lip attractively with a small exhalation.

“Little fox… that is a _dangerous_ game you’re playing,” he growls, his low tone sending a shiver up your spine. Your foot continues its path to cross to his other thigh as you speak.

“I never asked, why do you call me that?”

He hums softly as your toes cross again, making a brief foray between his legs.

“Because… **_The fox provides for himself._** Hm, another line comes to mind – **_If the lion was advised by the fox, he would be cunning._** You, my dear, are both resourceful and cunning. Hence, little fox,” he replies, and his hands suddenly seize your playful foot, giving the arch a few soft rubs. You moan at the sensation and he smirks at you, giving your aching foot another rub.

“Ahhh… I’ll have to think of something more creative to call you then, calling you ‘my poet’ just doesn’t seem as meaningful in comparison,” you answer him and he chuckles.

“You can call me whatever you like, as long as you call me yours,” he pronounces playfully, yet you can see an edge of hesitancy in his expression. His hands fall away from your foot as you take a moment to answer, his playful smile starting to fade as the silence lengthens.

_Did he really just say that? That he’s… mine?_

You reach your hands across the small table, palm up in invitation. He glances down and carefully places his hands in yours, as if afraid it’s some kind of cruel trick. You bring his knuckles to your lips, kissing each tattooed joint in turn.

“V… there’s only one way I can agree to that,” you finally answer, and his eyebrows rise as he waits for you to elaborate. You blush nervously as you speak.

“If you are mine, then I am yours,” you tell him emphatically as you meet his intense emerald gaze. His eyes soften and a gentle smile graces his full lips, the anxiety you had seen a moment ago vanished.

“Nothing would make me happier, Y/N,” he whispers as his hands squeeze yours.

“Not even Urizen’s defeat?” you inquire with a playful smile.

“Urizen’s defeat will make me content. You bring me _joy_ ,” V states simply, and you lean forward to give him a peck on the cheek, your heart dancing like you’d just been given a shot of adrenaline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, fluff and angst all in one chapter! Y'all are spoiled!
> 
> Reader has some serious skeletons in the closet, eh? Any guesses on who The Man is?
> 
> HUGE shout out to Lee, your comment on chapter 11 inspired the whole scene where they claim each other. Doesn't mean there won't be future jealousy, but I thought V deserved some peace of mind.
> 
> As always, thank you all for reading, leaving kudos, and most of all for COMMENTING! Every time I get a new comment, it's like Christmas and my birthday all at once! 
> 
> Next Chapter - A very special moment for our beloved V and Reader! Also, depending on length, might have Nero make an appearance. I'm aiming to post it by Wednesday at the latest.


	13. Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! I am so excited for this chapter, you guys, it's been building in my head for days. It's a shorter chapter since I wanted this scene to have it's own section, no distractions. Another chapter will be up on Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest, but knowing me I'll probably get it up at midnight tonight lol!
> 
> *********THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW************
> 
> Like, AT ALL! Summary at the bottom for anyone who'd rather skip the smut. Enjoy your dive into the dumpster, my friends, I know I did!

V

The afternoon passes in a blur, V’s hand only ever dropping yours to dispatch demons. He can’t seem to keep the smirk off his lips, knowing you were _his_ and that he was _yours._ A sense of belonging, of wholeness fills him as the sun begins its descent, the two of you already looking for a place to rest. He revels in the feeling, his heart light and body tingling like he had been hit by lightning.

“How about here, V?” you ask, pointing to a small grey house on the corner, its tiny yard enclosed by a wire fence. It’s not the most inviting of locations, but it should have a bed and that’s all either of you care about. He nods and increases his pace, the tip of his cane tapping against the sidewalk hurriedly as his strides lengthen.

The locked door barely slows him, Shadow leaping out and destroying the weak panel of wood in an instant, her body shifting back into a cloud of black shards the moment her task is complete. V gently tugs you inside, and your smile at his rush makes his blood pulse enticingly.

_So beautiful… so perfect._

He doesn’t even look at the furniture inside, his eyes glued on you alone, studying you. All at once, he can’t wait any longer. He growls and pulls you against him, his lips crashing against yours hungrily as his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace. You moan softly against his mouth, lips opening eagerly to taste him. His tongue darts forward to meet yours and a spark inside him seems to ignite, heat pooling low in his stomach as a low groan escapes him.

_More… I want more…_

You whimper softly as his lips leave yours, moving to your jaw and down your neck to suck on your pulse gently.

“ _Mine,_ ” V murmurs against your flesh, voice a low purr. He feels you shudder in his arms and smirks, his full lips drifting lower to reach your shoulder and kiss the small amount of skin he can reach with your shirt still on. He plants a kiss on a small mole marking your flesh.

 _“Mine,”_ he says again and you gasp as his hands tease at the bottom of your shirt, slowly baring your stomach to his greedy eyes. He crouches before you, his face now level with your belly and he leans forward to plant another kiss on a freckle on your flat abs, again claiming you as _his._

 _“Yours,”_ you whimper out and it sends a surge of lust through him, his cock painfully hard inside his tight pants. He stands, taking your shirt with him, his long arms easily pulling it over your head. He smirks and holds the fabric at your wrists tightly, trapping you and leaving you at his mercy.

V steps forward, pressing you against a wall behind you, the framed photos rattling against the drywall as he thrusts his hips against yours forcefully, letting you feel his arousal. You whimper again as he speaks.

 _“Yours,”_ he murmurs, looking deep in your eyes. Your hands struggle fruitlessly against the fabric of your shirt, your chest heaving in exertion. He smirks, but he doesn’t release you yet. Instead he trails a path of fiery kisses down your sternum before taking a detour and taking one of your hardened peaks in his lips, eliciting a guttural moan from your beautiful lips as you throw your head back in pleasure, making the photos rattle against the wall again at the impact.

_Mine, all mine…_

He teases the bud in his mouth, dragging his tongue across and nibbling on it gently until you’re gasping for breath beneath him.

“V, _please…_ Let me touch you…” you beg him, and how could he possibly refuse anything you ask of him? He loosens his grip on your shirt, letting it fall to the floor behind you as your hands are set free. You instantly weave one hand in his hair, fisting it gently and sending a bolt of white-hot pleasure straight to his groin. He growls deep in his throat as your other hand reaches for the laces of his vest.

He helpfully stands straight, giving you much better access and you unknot the laces at his waist hurriedly. The moment the laces are open, he grabs your hands in one of his own, bringing your fingers to his mouth and sucking as many of your digits in his hot mouth as he can fit. His other hand hastily removes the rest of the laces, letting him roll his shoulders until his vest falls to the floor. The second he’s free, he presses his chest to yours, dropping your hands from his mouth to take your lips in his own.

He molds his lips to fit yours, his chest heaving against yours as he holds you in his arms like a lost treasure of the depths. He feels your weight shift and smirks against your lips as he hears your shoes clatter away, discarded like so much detritus.

_Damn sandals… should have taken them off earlier._

As if you can read his thoughts, you push him back, breaking the kiss as you drop into a crouch and unbuckle his complicated shoes, pulling the straps away as you go. To his surprise, you press a kiss to his ankle, right over a mole as you whisper.

_“Mine.”_

His heart soars; being claimed by someone, by _you…_ it’s the best feeling he could ever have hoped to experience. The joy of belonging somewhere, being _wanted…_ He inhales deeply, smothering a choked sob in his throat.

_Not now. This is not the time for tears._

The moment his shoes are free, he grabs your shoulders and lifts you back to a standing position for another desperate kiss, his tongue trying so hard to convey all that he’s feeling, all the joy and warmth overflowing from his heart. He wraps his arms under your hips and lifts you up, eliciting a surprised squeak from your mouth into his as he holds your weight without breaking the kiss.

He carries you to the nearest door, hoping it leads to a bedroom. He kicks the slightly ajar door open fully to reveal a pantry and he growls in frustration. He sets you down gently, biting your lower lip and tugging it gently as he breaks the kiss to search the home for what he needs. You again seem to read his mind and dash down the hall, chest bouncing and sending another flame of heat through V.

He follows you as you open a few more doors, revealing a bathroom and kitchen and finally, _finally,_ the bedroom. You turn to face him, smirking as you back into the room and beckon him forward with a curl of your index finger. He growls and steps forward, taking your outstretched finger into his mouth and caressing it with his tongue. The sound you make sends his senses into overdrive, his desire reaching a new high he hadn’t known existed.

Your free hand starts to undo his belt, struggling with the unfamiliar mechanism. He growls impatiently and guides your hand to the release, the relief of pressure making his heart jump as his blood rushes in his veins. You easily unbutton his pants, zipper close behind and you pull your hand from his mouth to take his pants and briefs and tug them away to his ankles.

His cock springs free and as you stand to face him again you pause to lick his head gently, making him groan as your hot tongue sends him reeling. You take him into your warm mouth and he takes a moment to enjoy the sensation of your wet heat encompassing him before he grips your shoulders and pulls you up to him again.

“Little fox… _I want more than your mouth tonight,_ ” he murmurs, stepping out of his pooled clothing at his feet. He drops his hands to tug at your bottoms, your pants infinitely easier to remove than his own and they join his on the floor in a pile of fabric, evidence of your shared passion.

He hooks a finger through your panties and smirks as you whimper, your eyes drifting closed as he teases you before pulling them down your thighs achingly slowly, letting you feel the fabric move against your skin before it joins everything else on the floor.

V pulls you into another embrace, your bodies flush against each other at last as he feverishly kisses you. Your arms grip his waist tightly as he leans forward, using one arm to catch the pair of you as you fall into the bed. He pulls back to look at your face, marveling at the expression he brought forth in you. Your eyes, half closed and glassy with pleasure, cheeks tinted a soft pink. Lips swollen and parted, letting out heavy pants as you reach out to him once again.  He smirks, eyes sparkling as he presses his hips to yours, feeling the wetness leaking from your core easily.

“So ready to welcome me, little fox. So ready for me to make you _mine,_ ” he growls out and you whimper at his words.

“ _Please,_ V. Please, _make me yours,_ ” you respond with a whine.

He braces his weight on his elbows, careful not to crush you. His hips angle to meet yours and he moves, torturously drawing out the moment of him filling you with his length. He groans and throws his head back as he feels your core envelop him bit by bit, the wet heat _so much better_ than he ever could ever have imagined.

“You’re so _tight,_ Y/N. Are you sure you can take me?’ he asks with a smirk. He sees the look on your face, a brief flash of determination as you lift your hips and try to take him inside you fully. He pulls away, not letting you spoil his teasing.

“ _V, please…_ ” you beg, and he leans down to  kiss you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours as he finally, _mercifully,_ thrusts forward and sheathes himself inside you fully. You both moan together as his hips become flush with yours, the sensation of unity overwhelming you both for a moment as you pause to catch your breath.

“God, little fox, you feel _incredible…_ like you were _made for me…_ ” V growls, marveling at the way your body wraps around him, your walls a cocoon he never wants to leave. You let out a long moan as he pulls away, starting to move within you and heighten the sensations for you both. He gasps as he feels you tighten around him, as if you don’t want to let his cock leave.

He moves slowly, taking his time and memorizing every drop of sweat that beads on your forehead, every little gasp and sigh that escapes your parted lips.

_I will never forget this moment._

V presses his face into the crux of your shoulder, bracing all his weight on one arm and using the other to trace a path to your folds. You whimper softly as his fingers tease your lips, wetting them with your leaking fluids before he slides them inside to rub small circles over your clit. He listens to your reactions carefully, still rolling his hips into yours as he learns more and more about how to please you. He tries different speeds, different strokes, different amounts of pressure until he finds the combination that makes you wail into his hair, holding him close to you as he brings you to a shuddering climax.

He almost joins you as he feels your walls clenching around him, the undeniable proof of your pleasure bringing his own to a roaring knifes-edge. Your echoing cries in his ear, your hands clenching and unclenching on his skin, leaving deep red tracks where you scratched him in your euphoria, the knowledge of what he can do to your body, the heights of pleasure he can give you… it takes every ounce of his considerable willpower to hold his own release back.

“Good girl, little fox. _Such_ a good girl for me,” he mumbles, kissing the slick flesh of your shoulder as he raises his head to look at your face, enjoying the flush staining your cheeks and the hopelessly glazed look in your eyes.

He rolls his hips again, speeding up slightly as your breath comes in short pants. He feels you clench inside when he hits your cervix, body unwilling to release him and holding him tightly as he pulls away only to slam back in place again.

He flexes his core, twitching his length inside you and searching for that spot inside to bring you over the edge again. He hunts for it like a bloodhound until he’s finally rewarded with a sharp cry from you, and he flexes in the exact same spot with each thrust as he speeds up even more, pounding into you in a cacophony of wet slapping as his flesh meets yours.

“ _Yes_ , right there, V, _just_ like that…” you cry out and he grits his teeth, his breath coming in sharp pants against you as he exerts himself to bring you pleasure. Your cries grow more and more high-pitched until with a long moan, he feels you clench around him again, milking him as you come undone beneath him.

This time, he embraces it, furiously pounding into your quivering body and letting out a gasping groan of his own as he tumbles over the edge, his vision going black as he pulses within you, sparks of white light shooting down his body and out his cock.

He leans down to join your lips once more, still grunting deeply as he twitches the last moments of his release. You sigh into his lips and hold him close, your hands running up and down his back as he goes limp above you, carefully shifting his weight to the side.

His mind is blank in the afterglow, his breathing slowly returning to a normal rhythm along with his racing heartbeat. Your fingers trace his dark tattoos and he smiles, deeply content.

“Mine,” he mumbles once more and your hips shift, his softened cock slipping free as you roll to spoon against him, pulling his arm to encase you and pressing your back to his chest.

“Yours,” you agree softly, and he smiles once more as he drifts into a peaceful slumber with you in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Summary - V and Reader finally "knock boots", claiming each other irrevocably. 
> 
> Here's what I was listening to while writing this chapter, I love the atmosphere of these two songs - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uU7rnTG9QOA and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BVomQtrtMTM
> 
> Again I have to thank Alex, who was a MAJOR inspiration for a few portions of this. You're the best!
> 
> Let me know your thoughts in the comments, would love some feedback on my first real smutfest. What did you like, what was missing, etc. 
> 
> As always, thank you from the depths of my depraved soul for reading, for leaving kudos, and above all for commenting. Each comment I get makes my heart sing and my cheeks hurt because I smile so damn wide.
> 
> Ya'll are the best!
> 
> Next Chapter - A return to the reality of being in a demon-infested hellscape and the dangers it holds.


	14. The Weight of Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to have a weird habit of posting chapters much faster than I originally expected to. Sometimes it feels like this fic is writing itself. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, we've now exceeded 1000 hits and I am STUNNED!

June 6th, 8:28 am

You wake up slowly as V traces a pattern on your thigh, the sunlight peeking through the curtains in the tiny bedroom you had…

_Oh… oh my…_

“You’re blushing, Y/N…” V mutters, only adding to your embarrassment as the memories of the night before fly through your mind, the sweet ache between your thighs only confirming the truth of your recollections of bliss. You turn over to face him, this wonderful man who had done such amazing things to your body last night, your tinted cheeks fully in his view.

“Good morning, my little fox. How do you feel?” he asks you gently.

Instead of answering him, you pull his face to meet yours for a tender kiss, your hands stroking his obsidian locks lovingly as you sigh against his full lips. He hums happily as you part, a smile gracing his mouth.

“I feel… _amazing,_ ” you finally answer and he chuckles wryly.

“Well, you _definitely_ felt amazing last night… shall we try the shower?”

Your cheeks flush again at his reminder, but the thought of a shower distracts you from your embarrassment. The stickiness between your legs and the sweat on your skin scream to be cleansed and you nod, pulling back to sit up. V hands you a small towel and you smile gratefully at him as you wipe away the worst of the mess.

“Would you like me to join you or would you rather shower alone?” he asks kindly.

As much as the idea of sharing a shower with V thrills you, you need a few moments to yourself to process and think on what you had shared with him, get your thoughts in order before the pair of you had to continue your journey.

“Alone, _this_ time,” you answer him shyly, smiling in an attempt to convey how much you’d enjoy him joining you in the future. He smirks and stands, reaching down to put his briefs back on before walking over to your side of the bed to offer you a hand up, a towel in his arms.

_Could he be any more perfect?_

You take his hand and rise slowly, thighs only shaking for a moment before you stabilize. He wraps you in the towel, dropping a sweet kiss on your shoulder before you step away.

“I’ll go see if I can find some food,” he informs you as he leaves the room, still naked other than the briefs. You can’t help but grin, pleased by his comfort level around you. You find the bathroom easily enough, pausing only briefly to close the door behind you before dropping the towel on the counter. The knobs turn with a loud screech, water cascading from the showerhead shortly after. It takes a long time to warm, but eventually you step into the spray and close your eyes, enjoying the cleansing heat on your skin.

_________________

In the kitchen, V opens and closes cupboards haphazardly, searching for some kind of recognizable food. He can feel an itch in his mind, like he’s forgotten something. He tries to ignore it, focusing on his task, but the sensation only grows more insistent until he can’t ignore it any longer. The itch resolves itself suddenly as he hears a voice in his head.

**Let me out, Shakespeare! We gotta talk.**

_Griffon?!_

**No shit, Sherlock. C’mon, lets chat.**

He raises his hand and with a flick of his wrist, Griffon appears in a flash of black shards, sitting on the kitchen counter and staring him in the face.

“Oof, much better! It ain’t _easy_ talking to ya from inside, I tell ya,” the mouthy bird says, fluffing his feathers.

“I didn’t know you even _could_ ,” V responds with a look of surprise still etched on his face.

“Yeah, neither did I till just now! Guess I just needed something _important_ to say, is all,” the bird replies snarkily.

“And what would _that_ be?” V asks.

Griffon seems to study him for a moment, his three irises taking in his state of undress and the sweat on his skin. The bird fluffs his feathers again before continuing.

“V… you _gotta_ tell Y/N the truth. Maybe _you’re_ too close to see it, but she needs to know. Not just half the story, but the _whole shebang_. Urizen, Vergil, your birth. The whole story,” he states emphatically.

V looks away, refusing to face the truth in his friend’s words. He busies himself by looking in a few more half-empty cupboards for something to eat, frowning deeply as Griffon continues to speak.

“Don’t you think she’s been through enough? She’s said it herself, she never wants to stand by and _watch someone die_ again, and here you are _forcing_ her to do just that,” he adds, watching V’s every movement as he opens yet more drawers with more force, his anger leaking out in waves.

“I… _I can’t._ She’ll not want me anymore,” the poet grinds out between his gritted teeth.

“That’s her choice to make, my friend. Don’t let your selfishness take that away from her, _she deserves better_ and you know it,” Griffon concludes insistently before falling silent.

V shakes where he stands, mind filling with the knowledge that Griffon is right yet still refusing to accept it.

_There must be some other way, something I can tell her that won’t hurt her as much. I couldn’t bear it if she walked away from me now. I couldn’t bear yet another person leaving me behind._

A tear falls from his eye as he thinks of his mother and the night that changed his life forever.

He had been playing at the park a few blocks from home, pretending to be a mighty warrior like his father as he swung a stick from his perch on a mounted horse, envisioning himself commanding legions of mighty fighters in battle. At first, he hadn’t even been aware of the fire, the attack at his home. It wasn’t until an echoing crash had reached his ears that he looked toward his home where his twin brother and his mother were waiting for him, the first stirrings of fear coiling in his stomach.

It was on fire, flames licking the wooden structure hungrily. The upper floor was completely engulfed, the lower starting to catch as his terrified young eyes watched. Unbidden, his legs pumped as he ran toward his home, praying to find his family safe, outside, looking for him. He didn’t want to make them worry and ran as fast as his short, childish legs could carry him.

He could see in the front window now, see his mother screaming, the sounds being swallowed in the crackling flames as everything he ever knew was destroyed. He saw her fall, saw the heavy wooden beam pin her to the ground as demons closed in on her helpless form. He was still sprinting to the door when he saw a spray of blood, _his mothers’ blood_ , coat what little glass was still in the shattered windowpane.

He had wailed, then. _Screamed_ , fists beating the cobblestones at his feet as he began his cycle of self-torment for not being strong enough, not being _fast_ enough to save her.

_I should have **been** there, should have been able to stop this, to save her! I’m such a failure, I’ll never be strong enough to protect that which I love!_

Griffon’s voice brings V back to the present to find tears coating his cheeks, his chest heaving as he cries silently.

“V… If you don’t tell her soon, _I will._ But… she should hear it from _you_ ,” the demonic bird says gently, and V releases his hold on his friend, watching as his form dissolves into black shards and sinks back into his skin. He struggles to stifle his tears, wiping them away angrily and sniffing heavily. He takes a deep breath, centering himself using a habit that had been born from years of self-control.

Only once he was calm did he allow himself to truly consider Griffon’s words. His stomach sinking and his heart clenching in fear as he realizes the simple truth.

_He’s right, she deserves the truth. She deserves the truth from **me.** As terrifying as it is, I have to tell her. Have to give her the chance to make her own decision. I can’t take away her freedom by denying her that much._

Griffon hums his approval from within V’s body and he directs his thoughts at the bird carefully.

_I will tell her. Give me time to find the right moment, let her hear it from me._

Griffon hums again in agreement, a low undercurrent of suspicion underlying the sensation and V knows the bird won’t wait forever. He sighs heavily, decision made. The weight of it settles on his lean shoulders as he opens the last few cabinets, finally finding some bags of chips and cookies.

He hears your footsteps approaching and stuffs his troubled thoughts down, hiding them away in a dark corner of his mind for now as you join him in the kitchen and wrap your warm arms around his bare torso from behind, the soft scent of the soap you had used easing his discomfort.

“Shower’s open, V,” you murmur into his back from where your head rests. He turns to face you, kissing the top of your head and giving you a quick hug before he steps away to clean himself, leaving you to forage.

_________________

You can tell there’s something on V’s mind as you set out an hour later, bellies full and bodies clean. You take his hand like you did the day before, squeezing his fingers in a gesture of reassurance.

_Whatever is bothering him, I hope he lets me help._

You don’t speak as you follow him outside, beginning another long day of walking and fighting to advance every block. You make quick progress at first, nothing more difficult than a few Caina disturbing you and V as you progress. The residential area extends for over a mile, the houses clustered together like dandelions in a patch of grass. You occupy your mind with imagining who may have lived in the homes, picturing families and happy couples having summer barbecues on their small lawns, children playing as the parents enjoyed a beer over the grill. The vision reminds you of a cheesy TV movie, one of the ones that made it look like life could actually be that perfect if you were the right kind of person.

A cluster of the horrible husks brutally shatters your imaginings, two adults and a child crouching by the SUV parked in the driveway in a final embrace, an expression of the love they had for each other. Your heart clenches painfully at the sight, once again reminded of how lucky you were to be alive. You wipe your eyes, harshly scrubbing away any approaching tears that might threaten to spill as your empathy and compassion force you to imagine the terror those two had felt as they died, their child in their arms dying as they watched. 

_How horrible, to be so powerless to save the person you love most in the world._

You try not to look, but periodically you spot more of the wretched husks, each time your heart breaking a little bit more. You sniffle and smother your sadness as best you can, but V has already noticed your shift in mood.

“Y/N, what is it? What’s wrong?” he asks you gently, concern apparent on his face in his furrowed brow as he walks on, cane clicking on the sidewalk with every other step.

You struggle uselessly to maintain your already questionable composure and as the silence stretches on, V turns you to face him, stopping to focus solely on your needs.

_We shouldn’t stop, not for this… we have to hurry._

He tilts your chin so you’re looking up into his emerald gaze and you hiccup as a sob threatens to burst through.

“Little fox, talk to me. What’s troubling you?” he insists, and your resolve cracks at his worried tone.

“It’s this _whole stupid situation_! I keep seeing these husks, what’s left of all these people, and I just… I can’t believe how much _pain_ a single demon has caused, how many _deaths_ Urizen has triggered with this idiotic plan. Why couldn’t he just have stayed in Hell? Why did he have to come _here_ and _ruin_ so many people’s lives?”

You step away from V as your sadness morphs into rage, the injustice of it all making bile rise in your throat and your head spin as you pace, shouting your wrath to the sky.

“We _have_ to stop him, V, we can’t fail. This… this _monster_ doesn’t deserve life, and its up to us to take it from him. We will end Urizen, I swear. No matter what it costs us. We have to, or all these people… they _deserve justice_ , and we’re going to give it to them,” you pronounce, body shaking in rage as you ball your fists and grit your teeth, your anger obvious in your every motion as V listens quietly.

When you face him again, the look on his features shocks you into a stunned silence. He looks… _agonized._ Like something was physically hurting him. You pause, waiting for him to speak and respond to your fury.

“I understand, Y/N. I’m sorry that this has happened to you, that you’ve been pulled into my battle out of necessity. Maybe I shouldn’t have invited you to travel with me, should have insisted that you get out of the city…”

Your anger instantly deflates at his pained tone and you go to him, wrapping his slim, tattooed frame in your arms as you hold him close, pausing to choose your words carefully.

“I wish none of this had happened, that we had met under different circumstances,” you murmur into his vest. He lets out a small laugh, his arms coming up to rest on your shoulders.

“As do I, little fox,” he responds slowly. A few moments pass without motion, the two of you enjoying the feeling of being in each other’s arms. Finally, you pull away with a regretful smile.

“Sorry… we should keep moving,” you mutter apologetically, and V takes your hand as you resume your travels, giving your fingers a soft squeeze.

_________________ 

V

Your boiling rage, your hatred of Urizen had made his stomach revolt, threatening him with his own breakfast. He had never seen you so angry, so filled with hate. He didn’t like it, seeing your face screwed up in an expression of fury, fists balled at your sides… He much preferred your happy smiles or quiet sighs from the night before.

Knowing it was his other half that caused such a reaction was the hardest blow.

_How can I possibly tell her that Urizen and I are two sides of the same coin? How could she possibly still accept me, care about me after she knows what I’ve done?_

**You’d better not chicken out, Shakespeare.**

V rolls his eyes in frustration, having momentarily forgotten the privacy of his very thoughts is no longer able to keep his doubts from his friends.

**Not my fault your thoughts are so damn loud…**

V clenches his jaw, shoving his irritation away and focusing instead on the feeling of your soft hand in his, fingers intertwined. He strokes the back of your palm with his thumb, the contact soothing him.

**When you gonna tell her you love her?**

V’s eyes go wide, his steps faltering as Griffon’s insistent voice pipes up yet again. He glances at you to see you looking at him curiously, and he shakes his head to indicate nothing’s wrong as his steps resume.

_I don’t know what you’re talking about._

**HA! Nice try, pal, but I can see your feelings now. You can’t hide it from me!**

V carefully schools his features into an expression of calmness, inwardly groaning as Griffon’s raucous laughter echoes in the walls of his mind.

_Do I? Do I love her?_

He tries to analyze his own feelings, searching for truth within his thoughts. Yet without any prior experience, he can’t be sure. He knows he cares a great deal for you, would put himself in harms way to keep you safe, but _love?_ Was he even capable of feeling it?

**V, shut up. You’re in love.**

He hears a roar of approval and a low rumble like rocks falling from a cliffside; Shadow and Nightmare affirming Griffon’s words, causing the bird to break out in laughter again.

**Even _Nightmare_ knows it! The damn _pile of rocks_ figured it out before you did, genius!**

He can’t help but grunt a laugh out at that, slowly coming to see that Griffon is, once again, correct. The blue demon sends him a visual, of him preening and fluffing his feathers in pride, and a series of chuckles escapes his full lips.

“What’s so funny, V?” you ask him curiously.

“Ahhh… Griffon has figured out how to speak to me within my mind. He’s making some rather… _inappropriate_ comments at the moment,” V responds slowly, enjoying your face gain a hue of pink as you blush at the idea.

“Oh. When did he figure that out?” you ask, eyes wide.

**Hey, it was _her_ idea!**

“He says he got the idea from you, Y/N,” V chortles out, amusement still prevalent on his face as he does his best to ignore the stream of images Griffon is sending him, most featuring him enjoying some pets from you and V watching with a scowl from nearby.

“Shit… sorry, V. I didn’t mean to give him any ideas,” you say apologetically and he can’t help but smile, his heart filling with tenderness as he comes to terms with his new understanding of what he feels for you.

“Not to worry, I’m sure he would have figured it out on his own eventually anyway,” the lean poet reassures you with a light squeeze of your fingers. Griffon sends him an image of those same fingers tangled in his hair, stroking it gently as he leaned down to kiss you, his naked form suspended above yours by one arm as his fingers brought you such enjoyment.

_Griffon, if you don’t behave yourself…_

**What? What are ya going to do, huh?**

_…I’ll think of something._

Griffon lets out another round of cawing laughter at V’s inability to imagine some form of consequence for his lewd behavior. V grits his teeth and sends back an image of chicken noodle soup, with Griffon as the main ingredient. He can feel a jolt of fear run through the bird’s consciousness and smirks to himself as Griffon settles down at last.

_________________

You leave the residential area behind and enter a shopping district, windows displaying wares in every direction, bright banners flapping gently in the light breeze. The area is familiar to you; you once went on a shopping trip with some friends here and you smother the bittersweet memory harshly as you stride forward.

"Y/N."

You're startled from your thoughts as V speaks, drawing your attention to your surroundings to check for danger. The Qlipoth roots cast long shadows across the courtyard as the sunlight struggles its way through the clouds, making a pattern almost like shattered glass across the well-maintained landscaping. You spot the now familiar red webbing form a barrier between a shoe store and a French bakery as several demons start appearing yet again, but something is different this time. The air feels heavy, _weighted_. It reminds you of the atmosphere right before a thunderstorm, humid and dense with approaching chaos.

The demons themselves are ones you’ve yet to encounter. There’s three of them, two standing slightly behind the third as if in deference, holding heavy shields in front of their bodies. They look human at first glance, until you note the red lines pulsating across their intimidating armor. The metal looks thick and you wonder how your meager weapons can possibly do any damage against such heavy plating. You realize you won’t be able to help V win this fight and look to him in concern, hoping he’s up to it. The look of rage on his face makes you take a step back in shock; you’ve never seen him this angry. In fact, you’ve never seen him angry at all.

His arm pushes you behind him, as if to keep you hidden as he speaks, his cane outstretched as if in invitation. “ **The vision of Christ that thou dost see, is my vision’s greatest enemy,”** he intones heavily and all Hell breaks loose.

Griffon and Shadow spring from V’s cane, leaping and flapping into action. They attack, claws and teeth seeking blood. Griffon whoops as he flaps hard, and lightning strikes in a grid across the demons, hitting all of them. They barely seem to notice as they begin to advance. Shadow shifts into a spinning blade, cutting into the demonic knight on the left harshly as she spins into its body. Blood drips where her bladed body slices, the ground slowly turning red.

“Stay close to me, Y/N. These demons are too much for you right now,” V says softly, deftly stepping aside with you in tow as a huge blade strikes the ground where he was standing a moment prior. You nod, knowing the truth in his words. You shift with him, standing as close to him as you can as he stalks through the battlefield in a now familiar dance of death.

You try to track the movements of the demons, but the battle is too chaotic. Lightning bursts forth from Griffon, Shadow shifting into new forms as the demons advance and attack in a ballet of blood. It’s all you can do to stay by V’s side as he expertly conducts his symphony of summoned friends.

Griffon spits a ball of lightning at the feet of the nearest demon; as it hits the ground, it splits into two long streaks of electricity. They drift towards each other, meeting in a flash that nearly blinds you. The lead demon seems to barely glance at the bird as it advances toward you and V. It swings its massive sword at his head and he ducks, pulling you with him. You hear Shadow’s roar and she dashes back to you and V, dissolving into a black cloud as she slides beneath V’s feet. He tugs your arm, pulling you onto the cloud with him, and the pair of you ride Shadow to a less crowded corner of the field of battle in front of a clothing store, the windows occupied by stylish mannequins.

The moment you and V are out of the lead demon’s reach, Shadow reforms and runs back into the fray, her tail elongating and sweeping across the area knocking back the trio of demonic knights. She shifts again, into a form that reminds you of a Venus flytrap. Her… _jaws?_ Close on one of the demons, and it stumbles back several paces. Shadow turns to the center demon, swiping at it with her massive paw before her neck elongates strangely, striking the demon again and again in an almost laughable approximation of a bitch slap. Griffon swoops by, spitting lightning at the demon and suddenly you feel V dart forward to land the killing blow, leaving you alone.

“ _Die_ ,” he rumbles as his cane sinks into the demons chest. He pirouettes in midair, deftly wrenching his cane loose as the creature dissolves into black mist.

Your attention is so fully focused on V that you don’t notice the third demon approaching you, shield held up to cover its face. It draws its sword as V laughs darkly, landing on the pads of his feet after the graceful attack.

You feel a sharp pain in your right hip, and you let out a harsh scream as you fall to the blood-soaked ground. You instinctively raise an arm to shield your face as your landing knocks the breath from your lungs. Agony is all you know as you look up to see the demon raising its sword again, preparing to slice you in two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, cliffhanger! Muahahaha....
> 
> Still not sure how I feel about this chapter, feels way more angsty than I had initially intended.
> 
> Next part is already written, but I'm gonna torture you guys and not post it until tomorrow. (Also because I need to check it for grammar/spelling issues but shhhhhhhh...)
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, for leaving kudos, and most importantly for commenting! I love hearing from you guys, even if its just a single sentence.
> 
> Next Chapter - We find out if Reader can escape death again, or if her luck has run out. Nico and Nero will also make an appearance!


	15. Love's Agony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! Ready to see if Reader makes it?
> 
> *Quick CW - frequent descriptions of graphic injury, as well as mentions of death. 
> 
> This is a heavy one, folks. Have fun :)

June 6th, 12:14 pm

V

V's blood runs cold as he hears you scream. His emerald eyes go straight to where you lie on the ground, prone beneath an enemy as it prepares to land a forceful strike against your already wounded form. Time seems to slow as V starts to run toward you, Shadow not far behind him. He can hear his blood pumping in his eardrums; he knows it will be too many beats before he can reach you, but he tries anyway out of desperation, his face strained and tight where moments ago it held a grim smile.

Griffon moves so rapidly he seems to teleport to your side, swooping in and taking your outstretched arm in his mighty talons and dragging you out of reach of the demon, leaving a trail of blood on the sun-dappled sidewalk behind. V has never seen the demonic bird fly so fast. The second you are out of immediate danger his eyes narrow along with his focus. 

He hastily pulls out his book of poems, letting it fall open to any page. **“Every wolf’s and lion’s howl, raises from Hell a human soul,”** he reads aloud almost snarling, and snaps his fingers to summon Nightmare. V's hair goes white, the black dissolving like dust into the humid air.

V watches, carefully timing his advance as Nightmare bursts through a storefront, brickwork and shoeboxes flying across the street. He darts forward, jumps lightly and lands on his final familiars form, cane sinking in to give him something to steer with.

Nightmare trods slowly forward and with every step V’s rage grows, a towering inferno of wrathful flames in his mind. He channels it into Nightmare as the mammoth creature swings a motorcycle-sized fist at the demon that struck you down. It hits with a sickening crunch of metal and the demon disintegrates as V turns his attention to the final threat. He sends another burst of energetic rage to Nightmare and it emits a thin laser from its single eye, leaving a trail of explosions in its wake. Shadow and Griffon rejoin the fray, lightning and spinning blades quickly bringing the final demonic knight down. V launches himself off Nightmare and darts to the demon, thrusting his silver cane into the creature’s face without his usual flair; his mind is on you. The moment the last demon dissolves, V is by your side, panting.

V gently pulls your blood covered body into his arms, the crimson bright against your too-pale skin. The wound on your hip still oozes out yet more of the precious liquid as V brushes the hair out of your face.

“Ah, fuck, V, that doesn’t look good! Is she still breathing!? What do we do!?” Griffon exclaims worriedly, flying in circles overhead. Shadow pads up to stand next to him, letting out a low whine as she sees you in her master’s arms, bloody and covered in dirt.

V cradles your still form carefully, noting the growing blood pool beneath you with terror squeezing his heart until it feels like he no longer has one. He strokes your cheek and your eyes mercifully open. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, a small portion of his fear dissipating as you regain consciousness.

"V... it _hurts_ … Shit, V, get my bag. You have to… dress the wound," you say haltingly. V swallows heavily, his eyes quickly spotting your bag a few feet away.

"I got it, Shakespeare!" Griffon swoops over to the bag, gripping it in his deadly talons as he drags it to V. He looks down at you again, unsure how to proceed.

"Y/N, I don't know how..." he whispers. He looks to your hip, seeing the blood still flowing. It's slower but the sight still terrifies him. His heart feels tight, too tight in his chest as he realizes he may lose you.

 _I **just** found her... this can't be happening,_ he thought bitterly.

"It's okay V, I'll talk you, _aaah,_ through it. First you need… to stop the bleeding. Get one of the small towels and just, _augh,_ press it on my hip," you tell him. He's amazed at how calm your voice is; there's not even a hint of fear; only the painful exclamations. You’re acting like its nothing worse than a stubbed toe and it reassures him. Griffon digs around in the bag, finally pulling a towel out and dropping it in V's waiting hand. He does as you say, pressing his long fingers over your hip, his other hand still holding you off the blood-soaked cobblestone.

"Y/N..." he whispers your name tenderly, and his heart loosens just a fraction when you smile at him. _Please, **don't** leave me alone again..._ he thinks, and his arm tightens around you as if he can keep you alive through sheer force of will. He knows his fate is sealed, but yours remains a mystery to him. He takes another breath and presses the towel against your hip with more force.

"Good, that's good, V. Hold it like that for a while," you say quietly. Too quietly for his liking.

"Tell me what to do next," he begs you, not knowing if you'll stay awake long enough to show him how to save you. He needs to know now; he needs to plan and be ready. He needs to be able to see the next step in his mind, as he always has. Even before his rebirth.

"You'll need to clean the wound and… bandage it once the bleeding slows. There's some antiseptic in my bag, pour a little over it and… use a clean towel to wipe away what you can. Can you tell me how big the cut is? How deep?"

V glances down at your hip, forcing himself to look at your injury. Slowly, he peels the towel away from the wound just enough to see the damage. He catches his breath as he glimpses bone within the deep gash, his skin prickling in terror.

"I... oh, Y/N, I can see _bone_. The wound is about five inches long, I think. Oh, my little fox..."

Blood gushes out and he hastily presses the towel against it once more. His heart is beating painfully fast now, panic filling his mind. 

" _Please_ don't leave me, Y/N. I need you at my side," he mutters under his breath, tears falling freely now as his heart starts to wither; it wants to follow you into the abyss. He wants to tell you he loves you, but now is not the time. He bites his tongue hard enough to taste the coppery tang of his own blood.

"V, I'm not going anywhere yet. It looks bad but I can… heal from this with your help. Hold it together just a little while longer, my poet, you can do this," you say slowly, struggling to get the words out. "A wound that large… _uhh…_ will need stitches. And we can't stay here much longer; the demons will find us. Get the antiseptic ready."

He nods, gathering his strength as best he can. Griffon brings the bottle over and a new towel. He slowly, delicately lays you on the ground to free the arm that’s been holding you. Shadow pads over to your injury, her nose taking the place of V's hand to hold the blood-soaked towel against your wound so that he can prepare the antiseptic.

He takes your hand, giving it a quick kiss, then pops the lid off the bottle. Shadow backs away slowly, taking the crimson towel with her. Blood starts to run from your wound again, but it seems slower than before, to V's immense relief.

He pours the liquid across your hip, and you bite your lip, suppressing a scream. A whimper escapes your throat despite your best efforts. V takes your hand again, giving you an anchor from the pain. A tear escapes his eye as he watches you in agony. He knows that most others would be howling and thrashing away from the source of the pain, but you barely even flinch. He's amazed and saddened by how accustomed you seem to be to pain.

"That's plenty, V. Now clean it, gently," you gasp out. He takes the clean towel and slides it slowly across the wound, taking care to not jostle the still forming scab.

"Okay. Now it needs to be stitched. I can do it myself but I'll need… you to hold me up so I can see," you say, determination filling your eyes, lips set in a firm line.

V's shoulders slump in relief - he wasn't sure he could bear to cause you any further pain. But this much he could do. Bringing the required needle and medical thread to you, he lifts your torso and braces you against his own, so you're leaning against his chest. He kisses your neck, holding you up despite his obvious exhaustion. He feels you brace yourself as you bring the needle down, piercing the flesh near the wound. He watches as you carefully stitch yourself closed again, once more amazed and saddened by the ease with which you do so. Finally, you tie the thread off and are finished.

"That should hold for a while. Last step, we have to bandage it," you say with an exhausted sigh.

"Allow me, little fox. You lie back and let me take care of you now," V murmurs in your ear. He gently sets you on the ground again, careful to keep your wound off the dirty cobblestone.

V watches you as you relax on the ground. Your eyes drift closed, unconsciousness taking hold. He suddenly can’t keep the words from spilling from his mouth.

"Rest, my little fox. I've got you," he pauses, making sure your eyes are closed fully. "I love you, Y/N..."

________________

 June 6th, 6:07 pm

Awareness returns to you slowly. The pain in your hip comes first, then the stiffness of having been in the same position too long. You lick your cracked lips, but your mouth is so dry it does little good.

_Assess the damage._

You take a moment to feel the pain in your hip, letting the agony fill your mind and analyzing it with a sense of detachment perfected from years of practice. You memorize the sensation, making it all the easier to then set it aside and focus on the rest of your body. Nothing else hurts anywhere near as much, but you feel a dull ache from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. It feels like your entire body has been clenched for hours, probably from the pain.

_I have feeling in all my extremities; that’s good. Probably no permanent damage, but too soon to tell for sure. I wonder how much blood I lost. At least a liter from what I remember._

The thought reminds you of your dry lips, and you make a mental note to drink plenty of water to replenish yourself.

_Ok, now where am I? Is that… cigarette smoke and oil? V must’ve gotten me to Nico’s van._

Thinking of V brings the memories rushing back. You remember looking in his eyes as the edges of your vision went black, the sound of his voice as he spoke. Normally so soothing and lovely, yet he had sounded so scared while he was helping you treat your wound. Panicked, even.

But he had sounded intensely focused and serious when he spoke those last few words. Like nothing else mattered in the world. Your heart fills to bursting as you recall the moment.

_"I love you, Y/N..."_

Your mind swims in bliss, reveling in his words. You feel as though a piece of your soul that had been missing your whole life has finally been returned to you. You feel… complete. You resist the urge to laugh, knowing that it would hurt.

_I love you too, V. And I can’t wait to tell you._

Finally, you open your crusted eyes. As you had thought, you find yourself in Nico’s van, the mechanic sitting across from you and tinkering with some piece of machinery you can’t identify. You don’t see V and let out a whimper.

Nico looks up from her fiddling and immediately drops the chunk of unknown metal to the floor as she rushes to sit by your head.

"Hey hey hey, look who's awake! Ya had me worried, Y/N!"

"Nico? Where's V?” you rasp.

"Hush now, it's alright. V brought you to my van, then he went back out again with Nero. It's only been a few hours, so they should be back soon enough. I hope," she explains. She holds a bottle of water with a straw to your lips, a kind smile on her face.

"He... left me? But..." you feel like you're about to cry, wondering if you imagined his words. Your eyes dart around, taking in the sight of Nico’s van; the red tabletop across from you, the stove not far away, the complete lack of organization. The familiarity of it soothes you, enough to get your heart to slow down as you gulp down the water.

You drain the bottle, carefully lift your hand and wipe your cracked lips as you pause to gather your thoughts. Emotion and agony mix to form a strange haze over your mind, dulling your senses and numbing your impulse to hold back. You sigh softly, the words tumbling out before your pain and love addled brain can think to hold them back.

"He said he loved me. I want to tell him... need to tell him..."

Nico’s eyes go wide and she lets out a quiet squeal of delight, her hands clapping together seemingly of their own volition.

"Oh honey! Spill! Tell me everything! I _need_ an update!" Nico sits next to you, listening intently. She looks at you, waiting impatiently, and you realize how much you’ve missed having female friends. Having a kindred spirit to talk about boys with isn’t something you’ve been able to enjoy for a few years since your oldest friend died. You grimace tightly, the pain of the loss even after all this time twisting your guts into unfamiliar shapes.

“I’ve been falling for him since the library, he’s just so…well, he’s everything I like in a guy. Then yesterday, as I was passing out after stitching my wound closed, I heard him say it. That he loved me.”

Your lips stretch into a smile here, your heart light remembering the soft tone of his voice as he spoke the words.

_“I love you, Y/N…”_

Nico smiles at the look on your face too, clearly thrilled for you. You blush a little, nervous to hear what she thinks.

“So did’ja knock boots yet?” she inquires with a lewd grin, leaning forward on the edge of her seat. You blush heavily, remembering that perfect night with V, the heaven of being with him in such an intimate way rushing through you once again.

Nico shoots to her feet, clapping her hands and laughing at the look on your face.

“I KNEW IT! I knew it, the way he was _looking_ at ya, oh my gosh it was like he thought looking at anything else was some kind of crime! You might actually be able to make the idiot _smile,_ ” she exclaims, hands gesturing wildly in the air around her.

The thought of his smile, that special smile he saved just for you, makes your heart melt into a puddle of goo in your chest. A warm mass of joy and excitement that somehow managed to fall for someone amidst the chaos surrounding you. Another grin splits your face in half, thinking of V and all the things you want to say to him, to do with him, everything the future holds once Urizen is gone.

"Sugar, you are head over heels! I'm so happy for ya! And heaven knows V could use a little joy in his life; that boy looks like he wouldn’t know a joke if it walked up and bit him in his scrawny little gothic ass!" She pats your shoulder as you yawn, still exhausted from your ordeal. She reaches to her pocket to pull out a cigarette, still grinning at you happily.

"You get some more rest now, y'hear? I _promise_ I'll wake you when he gets back."

You give her a grateful look and slip back into oblivion, dreams swirling around your handsome poet.  
________________

June 9th, 4:56 pm

V doesn't return for another three days.

For the first day, it doesn’t bother you much. You assure yourself that he’s just helping Nero, he’ll be back soon and you can talk. Nico brings you her best attempts at food, and after two meals of her concoctions you ask her to just bring you your bag, stuffed full of all the food you and V eat when away from her van. She does her best to distract you, chatting with you as she works in her little corner, cracking jokes and asking you all about what happened with V in between bouts of noisy welding and curses.

You tell her slowly, saving a few details for yourself alone but enjoying her little squeals and clapping hands whenever you tell her something new. Her joy for you is obvious, her friendship an anchor against your rising tide of concern for the man you love.

You go to sleep that first night thinking he’ll be there when you wake up, smirking adorably at you as he sits down to read from his poetry book, the words of William Blake filling the silence.

On the morning of the second day, you start to get angry.

_How could he do this to me, just up and leave when I’m sitting here like this? Especially after what he said!_

By midday, your rage has peaked and you refuse to answer any of Nico’s questions, instead crossing your arms and fuming silently as the hours pass with still no sign of your poet. Your blood boils in your veins as you angrily chew a granola bar and slurp down water with your eyes fixed in a Death Glare.

Night falls, and your fury shifts to concern.

_He couldn't have... fallen, could he? No, no way. Nero would watch over V, surely? He has to be okay, he **has** to be._

You run your mind ragged imagining all the ways that V could be in trouble, your heart breaking a little more with each new thought. You envision his lifeless eyes staring up at you from a blood-soaked street. Him holding his guts in as he trudges away from a battlefield, barely supported by Nero. His cane lying forgotten in a muddy ditch, his corpse nowhere to be seen. Nero, with only V’s bracelet left to bring back to you. 

The second night, you barely sleep. What little time you spend resting is destroyed by nightmares, a blend of the past and all your visions of V’s death. You wake up screaming twice, Nico holding you and rubbing your back until you calm down enough to tell her what you had dreamt of.

The third day dawns and you feel your heart being dragged over a field of broken glass as your eyes open and V is still not there. All the images of his dead body flood your head once more, and you sit there in silence, shuddering as your mind tortures you brutally from within. By the time Nico wakes up, you are in the midst of a full-blown panic attack, your arms gripping your knees to your chest, your shirt damp from all the tears that have fallen on the fabric. You stare forward, unseeing for a length of time you cannot measure until finally, Nico holds you close, her own tears joining yours as she rubs your back and does what she can to comfort you.

“Nico… is there any way you could go outside and look for them? Not too far from here, but just… _please?”_ you beg her and despite her hesitance she agrees, taking your baseball bat with her just in case.

You start counting, keeping track of how much time passes after she leaves. You’ve just reached 2,249 when the door opens to reveal a long-fingered hand on the doorway, tattoos barely visible in the low light. You catch your breath, scarcely daring to believe what your eyes are showing you.

"V?"

He enters slowly, unsteady on his feet. He's leaning on his cane now more than ever and your heart stops when he loses his balance, falling just at your feet. He looks completely exhausted and you wish you could reach down to help him up.

"Y/N... you're awake?”

He sighs, slowly getting back to his feet. You carefully adjust your position, making room for him to sit beside you. The moment he settles, you tug him into your arms. He nuzzles your neck, holding you so close it makes you ache. You feel the tension leave his body as he wraps his arms around you.

"I love you too, V," you whisper in his ear, unwilling to wait a second more to tell him. You hear his breath catch in his throat, and he pulls back to look in your eyes. His emerald orbs are shining, _sparkling_ , and you stroke his cheek gently.

"You weren't meant to hear that part," he whispers, "but I'm glad you did."

He leans forward and presses his soft lips to yours and you sigh with joy. His tongue probes your mouth and you open eagerly, craving his taste. He moans in your mouth, and you tug his hair gently.

He pulls back, looking deep into your eyes again. "I love you," he says wondrously, as if the possibility of love had never occurred to him before. He says it again and again, punctuating it with kisses. He seems to be exploring the words, getting used to the feel of them in his mouth. You grin, then start to laugh, all the terror and rage of the last three days leaving you in a single peal of joyous laughter. He looks at you, confused for a moment, but seeing you so happy he soon joins in your laughter.

"What the hell is so damn funny?" Nero shouts from the doorway. V doesn't even glance at him, instead giving you another deep kiss. You hear Nero cough loudly and then start clapping, shaking his head in amusement.

"I'll uh, leave you two alone, and I'll keep Nico busy for a while for ya,” He chuckles as he closes the door behind him, leaving you and V alone.

V pulls back, giving you that smirk you love so much. He traces a finger down your side, stopping at your injured hip.

"How does it feel?" He asks quietly, his adorable smirk morphing into a frown.

"It's healing, getting better day by day. I can't move it too much yet or it might tear open again."

He kisses you again, voice breaking as he speaks. "I thought I'd lost you, little fox."

"I'm more durable than I look. I'll be here for a long time to come. We have all the time in the world, my poet."

His handsome face twists into a grimace and he pulls away from you, taking a deep sigh. He stares at his tattooed hands for a moment, seeming to consider something internally for a long moment of silence before he finally speaks again, his mournful tone making apprehension rise like a tsunami within you.

"There's something I must tell you..."  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> V, you idiot... THREE DAYS?! BTW I will be posting a chapter in my other work describing what V was up to for those few days, will be up a few minutes after this one. I'll probably also include it in the next chapter here, but for anyone who's impatient...
> 
> On a side note, I reread the first few chapters last night and ugh... it's amazing you guys stuck it out. I'll be doing some MASSIVE rewrites as inspiration hits. I will not stop adding new chapters, but my perfectionism will not allow the crappy plot pacing and lack of descriptive language stand. 
> 
> As always, thank you so so much for reading, for leaving kudos, and of course, my eternal gratitude to everyone who leaves a comment. Every word you write helps keep me going, keeps my fingers typing. You guys are seriously the best.
> 
> Next Chapter - the truth comes out!!!! Oof, how's Reader gonna handle it? Who knows? (me! hehehe)


	16. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good afternoon, everyone! Who's ready for some angst?
> 
> A quick announcement before we get started, I have rewritten Chapter One heavily. If you read it before today (6/18/2019) you might want to go check it out. There aren't any massive plot changes but you definitely get a better feel for Reader. I will also be updating the next few chapters soon.
> 
> Enjoy!

V

The time had come; he couldn’t put it off any longer. Every time you stepped into battle with him was another instance in which he was risking your life. You getting hurt was the final straw. He couldn’t risk your life, not even if it cost him your love. He clenches his jaw at the idea of you no longer wanting him, of you walking away in disgust. Griffon sends him an image of you hugging him close, encouraging V as best he can to speak.

He starts slowly, easing you into it. His tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth, almost like he’d just eaten a peanut butter sandwich. He swallows against the sensation, forcing his reluctant mouth to give voice to the words he must say.

“I am half of who I once was. I was… _split_. Not long ago. My full self is known as Vergil, and I am, or was, Dante’s twin brother.” He pauses, looking at your reaction to his words thus far. You seem more confused than anything else, your hands still gripping his own. You don’t speak, and he strengthens his resolve with a squeeze of your delicate fingers.

“Vergil had a human mother and a demonic father. He was alone as a young man, after losing his mother and brother in a demon attack. He had to learn how to survive on his own, developing a lust for power as a result. He embraced anything he believed would make him stronger and eschewed all he perceived as weakness, including his _humanity_.”

A grimace crosses V’s face as he remembers being Vergil, being filled with anger and bitterness. He has all his memories, as best he can tell. Few of them are pleasant. He can feel Griffon listening intently, making sure he tells the whole story as he had promised.

Your fingers stroke his palms, offering comfort as he doggedly continues. “After many years of suffering, Vergil came to believe his human side was his undoing and resolved to _cleanse_ himself of it. He performed rituals, _dark_ rituals, to attempt to remove his human side, but it wasn’t until recently that he was successful. It was _Vergil_ who stole Nero’s arm, knowing it housed the legendary sword Yamato, which is known for its ability to split energies of many kinds. He used it to split himself into two parts. Into Urizen, and me.”

He slowly looks into your eyes, dread encasing his heart at what he’ll see. What he finds shocks him – you aren’t fearful. You don’t pull away from him as he expected. Instead, there are miserable tears in your eyes, and you hold his hand even tighter now as if afraid he would vanish.

_I can’t… I can’t do this to her._

**V… tell her the rest.**

He shudders and takes a deep breath before delivering the final blow. “Half a being cannot endure on its own, thus my growing _weakness_. To stop Urizen, I must reunite with him. It will likely reawaken Vergil. I will cease to exist as you’ve come to know me, and Vergil will return.”

He pauses once more, gathering his strength and swallowing his agonizing wretchedness and dread as he whispers the last few words. “I am fated to die, either from reunion or through my slow loss of life force.”

He falls silent, the truth laid bare at last and feels a tear fall from your eye onto his hand, still gripped tightly in yours.

**Good job, V.**

A soft roar and the sound of rocks shifting accompany Griffon’s praise, and V sends back a grunt of acknowledgement, barely hearing their soft reassurances as he watches your face fall, crumbling into despair as tears fall from your beautiful eyes. He longs to ease your suffering but knows there is nothing he can say to help.

________________

For a long moment, you can hardly breathe, the agony in your heart too powerful for your lungs to inflate. You can’t think, mind utterly blank save for one thought in shock at V’s confession.

_He’s going to die._

You take a halting breath at last; feeling V’s fear through his tender hold on your hands reminds you that you aren’t the only one who has to face this. Has to carry the weight of it like an anchor.

_He’s going to die, and there’s nothing I can do._

All your years of training, of working so hard to balance the scales, and the one person you couldn’t handle losing is beyond your ability to help. How do you even begin to deal with that? How _can_ you?

The faces of every person you had failed to save flash through your mind in a slideshow of your inadequacy, V’s face coming up last. His beautiful emerald gaze frozen, mouth exhaling his final breath as the spark of life leaves his body. His hand falling away from your grasp as his limbs go limp in death.

Your shoulders heave, choking sobs breaking through your throat like shards of glass; each one leaving a trail of agony in its wake. V pulls you into his arms tenderly, his own shoulders shaking as he cries with you. Tears rain down onto his lap, puddling in the folds of his leather vest. You cry so hard your teeth chatter, jaw shaking uncontrollably in your grief.

“I’m sorry, little fox, I’m so sorry…” V gasps out amongst his own tears.

_Goddamnit, this isn’t **fair**! This is so wrong! It can’t have all been for nothing, it just **can’t**! There **has** to be a way to save him, I just have to find it!_

"There has to be something. There must be a way... we'll find it. I promise," you tell him.

He smiles sadly at you, having already accepted his fate.

"I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. This is never what I wanted, but there’s no way to escape fate,” V murmurs into your hair.

You frown. You’ve never subscribed to the idea of destiny or fate. To you, doing so would mean surrendering any iota of choice you have left, when so many choices have been forced upon you. Fury floods your senses, utter _rage_ at the cruel situation. You ball your hands into fists, so tight your nails leave little crescents of broken skin behind. You clench your jaw, every muscle in your body tensing simultaneously in a state of coiled energy in preparation to fight.

"No, I won't accept that. I _refuse_ to accept that! I won't let you go, V! I couldn't bear it, not after everything else. Maybe you're right, maybe nothing can be done, but if I don't _try_ I'll never forgive myself. I can't just do nothing, V! You _know_ I can’t! I’ve _seen_ where that path leads, I’ve _done_ _nothing_ before and it’s far worse than _failing_!" you exclaim angrily.

_How **dare** he expect me to just accept this!_

He sighs heavily but doesn't let you go. Not that you would let him, anyway.

You take his face in your hands, turning him to face you and look deeply into his emerald eyes. You choose your next words more carefully than any in your life.

"Maybe Vergil thought humanity made him weak, but _you aren't Vergil_. You're _V_. You may have come from him but that doesn't mean you have to share his fate. _I won’t let you,_ ” you tell him emphatically.

He finally smirks, leaning in for a kiss. He sighs into your mouth, his lips moving against yours in a symphony of life.

_That's it, V. Stay with me… don’t give up.  
_________________

V

V revels in the taste of you, the feel of you against him. Your words have soothed a worry he has struggled with since his creation, that he and Vergil were one and the same. He takes comfort in knowing that in your eyes at least, he is only V.

_I don’t want to die. I don’t want this to end, don’t want to leave you behind._

He craves life with every fiber of his being, knowing in his very soul that his existence is destined to be far too brief.

Your hands stroke his hair, barely pulling it. Just enough to make him react, knowing what promises are held in your fingertips. He moves his mouth to your neck, kissing his way to your collarbone. He loves the sounds you make, the little moans and sighs of pleasure he evokes from your beautiful lips. He feels himself hardening and presses his hips forward, gently letting you feel his erection against you. You smile, and your hands drift to his length to stroke it through his tight pants. He moans deeply into your chest, peppering kisses across your soft skin.

Suddenly you gasp, going rigid in his arms. He pulls back, only then remembering your injury.

He gives you one more kiss, soft as a breath of wind, then sits back. "We'd better stop, I don't want to hurt you. Let me just hold you tonight, I've missed waking up in your arms."

You smile at the thought of simply waking up with V, pulling him closer again. The two of you curl up on the couch together, holding each other intimately as sleep claims you.  
________________

V

V blinks his eyes slowly, Nico’s cluttered table sluggishly resolving itself before him through the soft strands of your hair. V is pressed against your back, his face enveloped in the scent of you. He inhales deeply and nuzzles your neck, not yet wanting to leave the comfort of your warm embrace to face you, his terror rearing its ugly face as it crashes back down, wondering if you’ll have changed your mind sometime in the night.

He holds as still as he can, savoring every second you remain in his arms as he grapples with the knowledge that there are far too few left. After far too short a time, he feels you stir in his arms and his heart sinks as you wake.

**Stop that, V. You don’t know what she’s gonna say, stop torturing yourself. It fucking hurts us too, you know.**

He cringes, sending a guilty apology to all three of his friends that reside in his body as you yawn and ever so slowly turn to face him, a sleepy smile on your lips as if last night’s conversation had never taken place.

“Good morning, my poet,” you mumble, and you lean forward to kiss him.

**See? Dumbass…**

He ignores Griffon’s jibe, choosing to focus instead on your lips on his, the taste of you on his tongue, a little sour from sleep but he doesn’t care. He can tell the exact moment you remember his revelation; your lips falter, quivering against his as you pull away. The pain in his chest returns, thinking he’ll never have the joy of your lips on his again.

“Do the others know?” you ask him quietly.

“Just you,” he responds succinctly.

“You should tell them. They might have an idea that could help,” you pronounce sadly.

It had been nearly impossible to tel you the truth, Griffon having to give him an ultimatum to force his hand. The others… he wasn’t as close to them, but still. Telling them was not something he wanted to do, imagining Nero’s rage at his unspoken connection to the demon king. How Nico would react, he couldn’t even begin to guess.

“I’ll think about it,” he responds and you nod wearily.

“Knock knock, lovebirds! You guys decent?” Nero shouts from the door, waiting for a response before daring to open it. V sighs as you shout at Nero to enter as you rub the sleep from your eyes. He wishes you could’ve had a few more minutes alone together.

“Hey, Y/N! How you feeling?” Nero asks as he steps inside, Nico right behind him.

You struggle to sit up and V quickly moves to help you, taking your weight onto himself as you settle. You flash him a small grateful smile before responding to Nero.

“A lot better… Where the _hell_ were you guys? I was worried sick!” you exclaim, and V cringes as Griffon howls in triumph.

**I told you so!**

_Yes, yes, you were right. Now hush._

Griffon grumbles but settles, his tattoo moving slightly as the bird’s consciousness fades into the background.

“We uh… well… we went and killed a bunch of demons,” Nero answers you awkwardly.

“Idiots!” Nico chimes in helpfully from where she stands. She pushes past Nero, shoving him aside in her hurry to get inside the van and see you and V firsthand. Her eyes sparkle as she takes in the sight of you leaning on the poet, your weight resting on him as he sends a lackluster glare at Nico.

She crosses her eyes and sticks out her tongue in response, not intimidated in the slightest.

“Oh… did you guys take down a root at least?” you ask hopefully, and V sighs as he shakes his head, already knowing what’s about to happen.

“You mean to tell me you left me alone to worry myself _sick_ over you and Nero, and you guys didn’t even make any real _progress_?”

Your eyes widen in rage and a long stream of curses comes out of your mouth, Nico grinning as you rip V and Nero a new hide. Griffon cackles in amusement within V’s head as he recalls what he had been doing while you had, apparently, been panicking over his absence.

________________

V would never forget the sound of your scream that day. Not in a thousand years, not even if he united with Urizen and became Vergil again. That sound would haunt him for the rest of his days.

Something unfamiliar had coursed through his veins as he dispatched the last demons. He had never felt so strong, so _focused._ Nothing mattered except eliminating the threat. He didn’t question it, didn’t have _time_ to question it, not after that terrible screech of agony had been so cruelly ripped from your throat.

Within twenty seconds of your scream, the last of the demons was dissolving into a fine ash, vanishing into nothingness as it deserved. He ran to your side, ignoring his own pain, pushing it away until he could deal with it later.

_She comes first._

Even as he pulled you into his arms, the thought shocked him. He was not a man prone to selflessness, never had been. Yet here he was, breaking down at the idea of you slipping away into nothingness like the demons he had so brutally dispatched.

He had been awestruck with how you instructed him in first aid, even as you were bleeding out in the middle of a demon-infested hellscape. As if it was a regular occurrence for you to have to stitch your own flesh back together. His own clumsy bandage over your neat row of stitches only highlighted the contrast, his panic throwing your courage into stark relief.

And then, you had passed out and he voiced the words that had formed on his tongue days ago, begging to be set free and spoken.

“I love you.”

Even now, sitting by your side in Nico’s van holding your hand and waiting for you to wake up, he marveled at his own feelings. Awestruck by the sheer _power_ of the emotion you had woken inside him after lying dormant for so many years.

It felt so _good,_ and so _terrible._

The terror of losing you had faded somewhat with the bandage in place, your own flawless stitches holding your body together. Knowing it was what you did every day reassured him, the reliability of your experience easing his worries. Yet even so, he couldn’t help his thoughts from parading an endless amount of scenarios in which you didn’t recover fully.

_What if she couldn’t walk? What if she never woke up? What if she was in too much pain to accompany me moving forward? What if, what if, what if…_

He had been sitting with you for hours, becoming more and more irritated at his lack of ability. Was there truly nothing else he could do? Nothing but sit and _wait?_

_I feel so useless, just sitting here._

V was a man of action; he saw what he wanted, devised a plan to get it, and then enacted that plan flawlessly to achieve his desired outcome. That was the pattern of Vergil’s life and he carried it within him; decide, plan, enact, achieve. He was finding the pattern much more difficult to hold now, as V. There were too many outside factors, too many external forces at play for his frail form to compensate. He felt like a passenger in the vehicle of his own life. It made him want to _hit_ something.

The door to the van creaks open, breaking V’s thoughts and scattering them like leaves in the wind. Nero’s signature heavy trod announces his arrival, his eyes immediately finding your face and his brow creasing in worry. Nero’s eyes easily spot V holding your hand, reading his body language and seeing how much he cares about you, and his mind flashes back to when he had been powerless to save Kyrie; remembering the sheer agony of not being able to _do something._

Nero shuffles his feet, scratching the back of his head awkwardly as he tries to think of something to say to ease V’s pain, but comes up empty. He finally settles with laying a hand on the other man’s shoulder in what he intended as a gesture of support and understanding. V looks up at Nero, giving the young warrior a look at his eyes for the first time.

_He looks like shit._ His eyes are sunken, casting dark shadows over the planes of his face, darker than the normal ones. He looks haunted.

“What do you want, Nero?” V asks him tiredly. Where the words themselves could be interpreted as hostile, V’s tone identifies them as a simple question. The lean poet has no extra energy to spare on pleasantries.

“Nico told me what happened, I wanted to check on her,” he pauses, considering whether he should continue speaking or not. He thinks of his fiancé, Kyrie. She had a way of reaching people in pain and soothing it somehow, and he tried to imagine what she would say if she were here.

“Look, V, I uh… the thing is… you wanna go kill some demons with me?”

_Wow, great job thinking like Kyrie. I’m an idiot._

V’s lips slowly spread into a feral smile, eyes flashing as he carefully sets your hand down and stands, turning to fully face Nero as he answers, “Absolutely.”

_Huh. Okay, then…_

The two men head out, going straight for the area with the most demon activity according to Griffon. V is silent the whole way there, and Nero knows better than to press him. He remembers the overwhelming urge to just let loose and _destroy something_ , assert his dominance over _something_ to remind himself he wasn’t as powerless as he felt.

For the first few fights, Nero holds back, knowing how much V needs this. He gives the dark-haired man plenty of room to command his summons, making sure to keep a portion of his attention on Nightmare whenever it joined the battles. That thing made him _nervous_. When he starts to notice V losing some of his rageful energy, Nero covers his back and lets loose some of his own fury. He cares a great deal for you, too. Your friendship has come to mean so much to him, your camaraderie a soothing presence when he misses Kyrie the most.

The two men tear through the hordes, wrathful strikes overpowering demon after demon. Nero’s rage quickly starts to cool, but V only seems to get angrier. Nero stays with him the whole time. They battle for the next three days, taking only a few hours each night to find cover and sleep.

By the third day, Nero’s thunderous temper has long since dissipated, but V seems determined to burn through every last scrap of his anger no matter how exhausted he gets. Even Griffon tells him to turn back, to _rest_ , but he only pulls the bird back within him and continues fighting using only Shadow and Nightmare.

Finally, the dark-haired man breaks. He wrenches his cane free from the dissolving corpse of an Empusa Queen and _howls,_ falling to his knees in a pool of demon blood _._ His cry echoes with all his rage, his frustration, his bitter self-loathing and his deep despair over his own fate, all the crueler for having learned what it feels like to _love._

He bows his head, spent. Nero goes to him but doesn’t speak. He just sits next to the lean man and waits patiently.

“Thank you, Nero,” V finally says.

“No problem. Ready to head back now? I bet she’s awake,” Nero says reassuringly.

V nods and struggles to his feet, exhausted after the last few days. Nero walks beside him and they return to the campsite together, a silent understanding between them. A brotherhood of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are reaching Act 3, guys! I can hardly believe it! 
> 
> Who needs a tissue? Poor V has some SERIOUS abandonment issues... I wrote his confession three weeks ago, building up to it has been a long road but worth it. 
> 
> As always, a massive blast of gratitude to everyone for reading, leaving kudos, and above all for commenting! I wouldn't have gotten this far without you guys, thank you so much!
> 
> Next Chapter - More angst, and a little smut. :D


	17. The Darkest Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy WOW this was hard to write!!! Oof.
> 
> ********THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW***********
> 
> Includes some rough(ish?) sex.

June 10th, 7:56 am

You’re walking down a street like any other when V collapses beside you, coughing worse than you’ve ever heard. When he finally stops, he looks at his hand in dismay – there’s blood. He looks in your eyes and speaks, as intense as the first time he said the words.

“I love you.”

He falls back, head hitting the pavement as his arm flops limply down to join it. His beautiful eyes are still trained on you as his features glaze over in death and you scream, louder and more harshly than you ever have. You feel your vocal cords tearing, being ripped apart by your expression of agony as ---

The echo of your tortured scream still hangs in the air as you wake in V’s arms, wrapped tightly around you and holding you close in an effort to wake you from your nightmare. You shake in his arms, eyes still seeing the image of his face in death for a long moment despite the fact that you can feel him breathing in your arms.

“It’s alright, little fox, I’ve got you…” he croons soothingly in your ear, and you finally relax as reality washes over you.

_It was just a dream… just a dream._

_For now._

Unimaginable pain wraps its hands around your heart and squeezes. You swallow shards of glass, blink through the nails being rammed into your tear ducts.

V’s biceps flex against you as he desperately tries to comfort you, his arms squeezing you in a vice like grip, refusing to abandon you in your pain. He presses a tender kiss on the side of your neck, still whispering words of comfort and reassurance, and you slowly move past the pain to focus on the now.

“I… I’m okay now,” you mumble eventually, and his arms relax as he leans back to look in your eyes from where he crouches on the floor of the van before you as you lie on the couch. He waves off Nico and Nero as they both come to check on you, your scream having awoken everything within hearing range.

It’s been long enough since your injury that you can sit up on your own and you easily make room for V to join you on the couch, and he quickly wraps one arm around you and pulls you into his chest where you can hear his heart beating. You close your eyes to listen for a spell, the sound of the life-giving rhythm soothing the last of your terror away until all that remains is a low current of apprehension.

“V, can you take me to Dante’s? The place you researched the Qlipoth?” you ask eventually. He nods against you before the soft lilt of his voice reaches your ears, the rumble in his chest beneath your ear a gentle purr.

“I’ll have Nico make you some crutches, it shouldn’t take her long,” he mumbles.

You lie in V’s arms for the next hour until Nico descends from her bed above you, yawning and glancing at you in concern.

“You alright, Y/N? That was a pretty bad one, eh?” she asks you kindly, and you just nod, content to keep your focus on V’s steady breathing underneath you.

“Nico, could you make her some crutches today? I need to take her somewhere,” V requests. At first Nico hesitates, clearly having planned on spending her time on something else. But one look in your eyes, seeing the desperation she does not yet know the cause of, she sighs and nods.

“Yeah, alright. Shouldn’t take long,” she answers morosely, and grabs a new box of cereal to munch on as she heads to her workstation to get started. Soon enough, her familiar cursing and the clank of her tools at work fills the air. As if the sounds had summoned him, Nero cracks open the door and stomps inside, plopping down across from you and V at the small red table with a yawn.

“So… should I just ignore that scream earlier or…?” the young warrior asks awkwardly. He scratches the back of his head in discomfort as you frown at the reminder of your new nightmare. When you still don’t answer him he leans forward and makes eye contact. His face is twisted in worry, brows furrowed and mouth a tight line as he speaks once more.

“What’s going on? Can I help?” he murmurs softly. His kind friendship breaks you inside and your breath hitches as you choke back a sob. You’re so tired of crying. You feel wrung out, like a damp towel someone tried to keep from dripping.

_Just have to get to Dante’s, there **has** to be an answer there._

V’s long fingers stroke your cheek as he answers Nero for you.

“I’ll tell you later, Nero. There’s nothing you can do for now,” he explains tiredly, and your heart leaps at the thought of him telling Nero the truth.

_Another person to help save V… maybe it will make a difference._

Your thoughts spiral as you review everything you know about Urizen, about Yamato, about this whole fucked up disaster your life has become. Hours pass without you noticing, Nero and Nico coming and going without so much as a word from you. V stays, his arms around you the only thing keeping you from being swallowed by the abyss of hopelessness that tugs at your mind, threatening to consume you if you let it.

_I can’t give in. Can’t give up. I have to save him._

“Y/N? Little fox?” V shatters the tracks your train of thought was coasting along, bringing you back to the now to see Nico before you, smiling as she holds out two long pieces of metal.

“Crutches are done! Let’s make sure they’re the right length, yeah?” she says, and V slowly helps you get to your feet for the first time in days, outside of bathroom trips at least. His intricately patterned arms support your weight as Nico carefully positions the crutches under your arms. At her nod, he lets you go carefully, arms hovering to catch you just in case.

Your hip _burns_ as you automatically put weight on it. You clench your jaw and force the healing muscles to go limp, putting the strain on your armpits as you embrace the support the crutches offer. Nico had done well; they are the perfect height and she had even put pads on the spot your armpits rested on. You shoot her a grateful smile and she winks at you.

“Let’s go,” you say simply to V and he chuckles.

“Not so fast, little fox. Nico, can you get us as close as you can to Dante’s office? Even a mile closer would be immeasurably helpful,” he asks, turning to Nico.

“Uh, yeah sure thing! No problem, lemme go tell Nero though,” she answers quickly, ducking outside to find the rambunctious man.

V turns back to face you, his emerald eyes carefully taking you in. His full lips twist into a smirk and you long to kiss him.

“V… kiss me?” you request quietly.

“Gladly,” he purrs with a small smile, and his hands gently grasp your cheeks, holding you steady as he closes the gap between you and presses his mouth against yours. It’s sheer torture to be unable to wrap him in your arms, to run your hands down his lanky form or run your fingers through his silky obsidian hair, but the feeling of his kiss will have to be enough for now. Your tongue darts out, begging him for entrance and he inhales deeply through his nose as he complies. Your tongues meet in a flash of heat, dancing an intricate waltz across your joined lips. You long to feel his body against you, letting out a low whimper in a wordless attempt to convey your need.

V steps closer, gently pressing his chest against yours and wrapping his lean arms around you, ready to catch you if you should you lose your balance. He hums softly against your lips, the low vibration in his chest setting your skin on fire.

_Stupid hip… stupid demon assholes… stupid Urizen…_

The door cracks open, giving Nero a glimpse of you and V’s embrace. He clears his throat and V pulls back with a small sigh.

_Stupid Nero…_

“Uh, my bad… we’re ready to go, though,” Nero mumbles as he uncomfortably averts his eyes and climbs into the van, Nico shortly behind him. She takes one look at the glazed eyes and tinted cheeks of you and V and waggles her eyebrows at you. You give her a small smile as she trots to the driver’s seat.

“Get strapped in, guys, could be a bumpy ride,” she announces as she starts the van. Nero joins her up front in the passenger seat, and you and V sit back down on the couch, his hands helping you set your crutches aside. You brace yourself as the van jolts into motion, Nico’s tools already clattering in the back. V does his best to keep you comfortable through the drive, but every pothole or sudden turn still makes your hip twinge as you instinctively flex the injured muscle to maintain your balance. By the time the van finally slows, you’re clutching at your bandage and gritting your teeth against the pain.

“Can’t get any further, guys. You’ll have to hoof it from here,” Nico shouts back to you and V. You sigh, hoping the walk isn’t too long but grimly setting your mind to the task at hand as V helps you get back on the crutches. You cautiously exit the van, a sharp intake of breath the only outward sign of your pain as you step onto the waiting pavement.

Nero follows you out, much to your surprise. He gives you a look, as if insulted by the thought of him _not_ keeping an eye on you, and you grin at him before looking around. The area looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t remember anything specific about it.

_Maybe I’ve driven through here before…_

Nico waves at the three of you as you slowly step forward, passing the massive chunk of masonry that blocks her from going any further. Your last sight of her before the rubble blocks your view is of her pulling out a cigarette, leaning against the hood of her van to wait.

“Let’s get moving,” V comments, shaking you out of your thoughts. He and Nero take the lead, easily dispatching the few Empusa and Caina hanging around with a slash of a sword or a quick blast of black shards. You don’t pay much attention, mind focusing on how to find a way to save V. You clatter on behind them, crutches making a ridiculous amount of noise on the sidewalk.

The street is tough to navigate; the roots left deep cracks in the asphalt and several more enormous blocks of concrete and brickwork lie on the ravaged road. You block out the sight of the husks lining the roadway as best you can, desperate to pretend anyone you may have known before made it out safely.

“This is it,” Nero says, and you look up to see the infamous Dante’s home. An unlit neon sign hangs above the arched door, matching the one on Nico’s van closely. The brickwork marks the building as being somewhat old, crumbling in some places but still standing sturdy, its Victorian style windows giving you a glimpse into the dark room inside.

Nero trots to the door, pushing it open easily. He waves you and V forward; no demons inside, thankfully.

Your heart sinks in disappointment as your eyes adjust. The room you enter is dark, meager amounts of sunlight able to pierce their way through. You can see the outline of a huge desk, a stairwell to the left, couch and refrigerator on the right. It seems messy, pizza boxes strewn everywhere. And it _smells._ Like rotting garbage and standing filth.

_Is this it…? Seriously?_

Nero is already rummaging through the desk, pulling out long cylinders in the darkness. He arranges them on the desk and pulls out his sword, twisting the handle and igniting it. He passes the flaming blade over the items he’s extracted from the drawers below and they ignite, showing themselves to be candles.

The room, now lit, is in even worse shape than you thought. Lewd posters decorate the walls behind the desk alongside a proud display of weaponry. The old-fashioned wallpaper is peeling in some places, highlighting the lack of upkeep performed on the small space.  Your throat closes a bit as you realize how low the chances are that you’ll find an answer here.

“Follow me, little fox. I’ll show you to the library,” V instructs you, and you clumsily clatter behind him as he ascends the staircase, lit candle in hand. He leads you down a long hallway to an unremarkable door that looks identical to all the rest you had passed. He gestures at it, indicating it as the library and you apprehensively push it open.

_Oh, no…_

The library is, in a word, half-assed. The shelves you can see in the low light are half-full, books seemingly stacked away at random. Several stacks of books sit directly on the floor next to a small table and chair, carelessly left out by previous readers. V leads you to sit there, lighting a few more candles and placing them strategically to light the room. You choke back your hopelessness as he gazes at you, trying to give him a sliver of reassurance that you could still find something here to save him.

“So, what should I bring you?” he asks with a small smirk.

Your thoughts skitter about frantically, searching for a good place to start. Without knowing what sorts of books are here, it’s difficult to narrow it down. Finally, you answer him, voice laying your doubt and anxiety out for all to see.

“Umm… anything that mentions Yamato? Or souls? Maybe an encyclopedia?”

V simply nods and vanishes into the stacks. You can hear his cane striking the wooden floor occasionally, a slight rustling sound as he pulls a few books off the shelves.

_There’s no way… how could I possibly have hoped to find something here that he hasn’t already considered? How arrogant could I have been to think that I could somehow keep him alive? I’m such an idiot, I should know better than to try to save people by now… it never works anyway…_

_________________  
_

V

Most of the titles are clearly useless – _A History of Hell, The Idiot’s Guide to Swordplay, How to Sharpen Any Blade, Everything You Ever Needed to Know About Gunpowder…_

But a few seem promising, and he gathers them quickly in his tattooed arms. By the time he returns to you, his arm is shaking at the weight of the volumes and he can’t see over the top. Luckily, he knows this library well after his hours of research to figure out what you were dealing with. He sets the stack of thick tomes on the desk next to you and smiles as he looks at you.

His smile freezes when he sees the look on your face. Your lower lip quivers where you bite it, eyebrows drawn together and eyes wide and teary. He leans across the desk and strokes your hair just the way he knows you like it, his thumb tracing against your cheekbone and forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Little fox?” he murmurs gently.

You visibly gather yourself and smile halfheartedly at him, trying desperately to hide whatever dark thoughts had come to mind in his absence. His throat constricts painfully as he watches your eyes refocus, taking in the stack of books he found and taking a deep breath.

“Let’s get started…”

__________________

June 13th, 12:04 pm

V

For three days, V has watched you dedicate yourself to research with a focus and voracity he hadn’t known you possessed. You stop only to eat and use the bathroom, and even then he sometimes has to remind you. The only time he’s seen you sleep had been last night, when your head had fallen onto the latest tome under your examination – _Devil Arms._

He had watched you sleep for a mere hour before your nightmares brought you forcefully back to consciousness with a howl that made his blood feel like ice in his veins. He had held you quietly, whispering reassurance and love until you calmed, only for you to pull the next book down to your lap to continue your reading, your bloodshot eyes still watery as you forced yourself onward.

_She won’t last long if she keeps going like this. She’s going to destroy herself looking for an answer that doesn’t exist._

_I never should have told her._

**V…**

Griffon’s voice in his head echoes, laced with warning and apprehension, but he ignores it.

_She would’ve been so much better off if I’d forced her to leave the city…_

**Goddamnit, V, I thought you were past this idiocy!**

_Maybe it’s not too late, maybe I can still end this farce, get back to what really matters. Defeat Urizen, stop wasting what little time I have left looking for something that doesn’t exist._

A lightning bolt of fiery pain rips through him and his eyes clench shut as every nerve in his body is wracked with agony. His skin is on fire, his bones melting, and his muscles being eaten away by the acid in his blood. He bites his lip, desperately trying to withhold a scream but failing. His cane falls to the floor with a clatter as he clutches his pounding skull with both hands. Without his cane, he quickly loses his balance and falls to the floor, the wooden beams beneath him blissfully cold against his scorched skin.

 _“V!”_ he hears you scream from far away but can’t even open his mouth to answer you, his jaw locked shut.

Another surge of agony rushes through him as you pull him into your arms, your normally comforting embrace now only magnifying this moment of utter _weakness._

You hold him for what feels like an eternity as the pain wracks his disgustingly powerless form before it finally starts to fade, leaving his nerves aching and blood pounding as he slowly regains his awareness. His shaky breaths echo in his ears as he opens his eyes without being able to remember when he had even closed them.

“V? What happ- _oh my god…_ ” you begin to as him with a sudden gasp cutting off the end of your obvious question. Your shaking hand reaches out to touch his cheek.

“What? What is it?” he asks angrily, still punishing himself for his _weakness_.

“Your… _your skin…_ ” you whimper as tears fall from your eyes.

 __________________  

_No, no, no, no no no nononononono…_

The smooth, alabaster skin of his cheek is cracked like an eggshell. His body still shakes with the aftereffects of his agony in your arms, and before your eyes he seems to close in on himself. His expression clears, settling into a flat mask of emptiness as he clenches his hands to stop the shaking.

The crack in his cheek grows another inch and he lets out a low growl as he struggles to stand.

_Don’t you **dare** block me out again! Don’t you FUCKING dare!_

Your hip aches as you stand with him, forced to take your own weight as V doesn’t even try to help you. You swallow the shards of glass in your throat, ignoring the complaints of your body as you watch V lean over to pick up his cane. He turns to face you again and your heart shatters at the deadness of his tone.

“This endeavor is a waste of time. There is no escaping my fate. You would be best served if you left now,” he says carefully.

You slap him. His face turns to the side at the impact but quickly resets as his emotionless emerald eyes stare into yours.

_Maybe if I yell at him like last time?_

You focus on your rage, letting it gather within you like a storm. You breathe heavily as you narrow your eyes and grip his collar with both clenched hands, pulling his face to within an inch of yours as you scream at him.

“No, you do NOT get to tell me when to leave! THAT’S _MY_ CHOICE! I chose to STAY with you and I WILL NOT RUN NOW! Not when you need me the most, _goddamnit_!”

You pause, panting as you watch his reaction. Yet his face doesn’t shift, doesn’t change by even a single atom. His hands come up to yours and roughly force your fingers open, releasing himself from your grasp.

“Fine. Then I’ll simply leave you behind,” his voice says, but _its not V, it can’t be!_

_He can’t DO this to me! I’d give everything I have to save him, even if his is the last life I ever save I don’t care! It would be enough! No one else matters!_

He takes a step away from you and you growl deeply, tugging his wrist to pull him back closer to you.

 _“I will never leave your side,”_ you whisper hoarsely, and you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him down so his lips meet yours.

 _Come on, come back to me!_  

The shards of your already broken heart disintegrate into nothingness as he simply stands there, not reacting at all to your desperate kiss. His full lips remain pressed in a firm line as you trace them with your tongue, your hands still holding his frail form down to your own. Tears leak out of your eyes as his hands rise, probably to push you off again.

His hands, his lovely, elegant hands sweep across your spine as he suddenly _snarls_ into your lips, his tongue darting out to meet yours at last. You gasp, your heart somehow reappearing and beating once again as his hands tug your body flush against his. Those lips you love so much leave yours, drifting to your neck and sucking gently at your racing pulse. Your hands surge down to the laces of his vest, hastily tugging on the damn things until they come loose. You jerk the sides of his vest away harshly, baring a few more inches of his beautiful tattoos to your hungry gaze. You kiss his chest, nipping gently at his markings and making him gasp.

_Yes, yes V, please! Stay with me, don’t walk away…_

He tugs at your pants equally harshly, hands descending under the loose fabric to grip your ass and pull your hips against his to feel his hard length. You moan and wrap one leg around him, taking all your weight on your uninjured hip as you grind against him, eliciting a delicious low groan from his sweet lips.

He steps forward, forcing you to hop back on one leg until you hit the desk with a gasp. He growls and leans you down over the table, one arm shoving the copious amount of literature out of his way. He pulls away just long enough to drop his own pants, coming back to press his naked hips into you, making both of you moan lewdly. He almost tears your pants as he rips them down to your knees, a single finger checking your wetness before he slams inside you with a long, _obscene_ groan of pleasure. 

_FUCK, yes!_

The sudden fullness makes you cry out wordlessly, but you only want him _deeper_ and _harder_ , so you buck your hips in encouragement. He starts thrusting, each hard impact making the desk screech across the floor a few more inches as he _slams_ his hips forward. He leans down over you, rolling his hips and capturing your lips in a desperate effort to be _even_ _closer_ to you. You wrap both legs around his waist, ignoring the bolt of pain from your injury as you open your mouth.

The surges of heady pleasure course through your body as he raggedly pants into your mouth and you fist his hair, forcing a low whine from his throat. He pulls back from your kiss, standing tall over you as he thrusts even more quickly, his movements jerky and uncoordinated in his desperation. His hands grip your hips, this wonderful man still remembering to be gentle on your injured hip, but the other hard enough to bruise. With every thrust forward, his hands pull you in to meet him in a carnal, wet slap of flesh.

“V, _yes_! That’s it, my poet, _please_!” you cry out, your hands gripping the wooden desk in a grip to match his own.

He gasps harshly as you use your nickname for him, his hips bucking violently against yours as he cries out his climax, his voice almost breaking as he darts a hand into your folds to rub your clit, his memory serving him well as his fingers apply the _perfect_ blend of pressure and friction to drag you wailing his name as you join him in the throes of ecstasy. You feel his cock pulsing inside you, your walls clenched so tight you can feel every ridge, every _detail_ of his length within you as your vision goes white and your body is electrified. He leans down over you again, pressing his face into your shoulder and murmuring your name as he pumps through the last of his pleasure.

You stroke his hair lovingly as you come down from your own high of release, his name escaping your lips in a mantra of joy.

A long moment passes as you both catch your breath. He raises he head and you stop breathing entirely.

“V… _your skin…!_

The crack on his cheek is _gone_. A tiny line marks where it had been, but it looks more like a scar than an actual crack now. You sit up, forcing him to stand as you touch his flesh in wonder.

Your mind whirls, a maelstrom of everything you’ve read over the past three days ripping through you as you connect the first few pieces of the puzzle. You push V off you, a wet sound accompanying him vacating your body. You dig through the books on the floor, heedless of your aching hip or the fluids dripping from you inner thighs.

V walks off into the adjoining bathroom, limp nowhere to be seen as he brings you a soft towel to clean yourself with. You hastily drag it across your body and toss it into the corner, mind utterly focused on the seed of an idea sprouting in your thoughts.

_Please, please… could it really be so simple?_

V brings you your discarded clothing, his own already back in place. You barely glance away from the text in your hand as you pull your pants back on, _so close_ to confirming your suspicions. You drop the book and turn to V excitedly, asking what might be the most important question of your life.

“V, what were you thinking just before I kissed you?”

He stares at you in confusion for a moment before answering, shame evident in his tone.

“I was thinking that I didn’t have time for this _foolishness_ , for this _distraction_. That I must reach Urizen before it’s too late.”

“And once we started…?”

He blushes deeply, the scarlet tint even appearing on his chest as he looks at the floor.

“I was thinking about how beautiful you looked, how perfect you are. How much I love you.”

And just like that, it all slams into place.

_I know how to save him._

_I KNOW HOW TO SAVE HIM!!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT DID READER FIGURE OUT!!! OMG!!!!
> 
> I'm so pumped for the next chapter you guys, you just... AAAAHH!!! Who wants to guess at how this is all gonna go down? C'mon, I wanna know how effective my foreshadowing was!
> 
> Some music that helped inspire me today - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2t8pHCbVFc and also https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uU7rnTG9QOA
> 
> As frigging always, thank you so much for reading, for leaving kudos, and of course for commenting! I love you all so much!
> 
> Next Chapter - Dawn


	18. To Be Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiiii everybody!!!
> 
> Gosh, what a response to last chapter! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! Bear with me on this one, I feel sooooo cheesy... Reader is a bit of an idealist.
> 
> A quick warning - I will be posting another scene after this. Originally it was meant to be the end of this chapter, but due to it's content I wanted to make it easy for anyone uncomfortable to skip it.
> 
> ******Next chapter features child strangulation - you will see what Evan did. If you are not comfortable with this, PLEASE skip it! I will have a summary at the beginning of the next full chapter.*************

June 13th, 1:05 pm

_How can I test this?_

You ponder silently for a quick moment, V watching the gears turn in your head anxiously. You slam your hands on the desk as you figure out a way to test your theory.

“V… I need you to do something for me and not ask why, okay?” you instruct him. He nods nervously, still baffled by your behavior.

“I need you to think about how emotion is a liability, that it will slow you down to the point that Urizen succeeds,” you explain carefully and cross your fingers as you hold your breath. You can see the moment his thoughts follow what you said, the moment his mind shifts back into that darkness that pulls him away from you. The side of him that is so cold and uncaring.

His face crumples, his cane clattering to the ground as he clutches his head in agony. A low groan of pain slips through his clenched lips as you limp to the other side of the desk and wrap him in your arms, praying he can hear you through his pain. You pause in horror as you see another crack marring his left hand, expanding as you watch.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Listen to me – think about how you feel about me. Remember when we were at that house and we first kissed in bed? You said I tasted like heaven. It was _magical_. Or when you told me you were mine? Remember that? Or when we first slept together, what it felt like after all that _waiting…_ ”

_Come on, **please** God let this work! I swear I would trade all the lives I’ve saved until this point to save him, **please…**_

You fall silent, eyes glued on the crack on his left hand as he starts to calm. You almost scream in ecstasy as the crack shrinks, just a tiny bit at first but faster and faster as V’s mind once again follows your words, remembering each moment you had mentioned. By the time his eyes rise to look at you again, the crack is a thin scar, barely visible at all.

You tackle him to the ground, laughing hysterically as you confirm your hypothesis. V grunts as he takes your weight but doesn’t complain, too busy holding you tightly through your exuberance. Finally, you calm down and sit up, straddling him with a wide grin.

“V, I think I know how to save you!”

________________

V

His eyes widen, his face revealing his joy to you even as he’s still completely lost, not following your thinking at all.

“How, little fox?” he asks you earnestly, desperately trying to contain the growing flame of hope that you had lit in his heart.

“You have to let yourself _feel._ Embrace your humanity, focus on all the things about being alive that you love,” you try to explain.

**What the hell is she talkin’ about, Shakespeare?**

_Not now, Griffon…_

V sends an image of the blue bird with his beak tied shut as a threat, and the mouthy demon calms down to listen as Shadow purrs out a laugh.

“I don’t understand,” the lean poet responds. You fall silent for a moment, struggling to find the right words for him. He waits patiently, content to simply watch your face as you think.

“Okay, this is gonna sound _really_ cheesy, but just go with it. First off, how did the Yamato know which pieces of Vergil to put where? _How did it know what to discard?_ ” you pause, waiting for him to answer.

“I… have no idea,” he admits slowly, still mystified.

 _“Vergil had to tell it!_ It was based off what he _felt_ were his weaknesses and strengths! So obviously, emotion or perspective matters, right?”

“I suppose,” V replies and waits for you to continue.

“Second, you barely limp now. Ever since you said you loved me, you’ve barely had to use your cane. So experiencing a powerful emotion might be making you stronger, maybe even healing you. I mean, whenever you let your feelings take over, you’re _ridiculously_ powerful,” you continue on, and thinking back V realizes you’re right.

He had never felt stronger than when he thought you were going to die, or when he had first admitted to himself that he loved you, or when you had claimed him as _yours_.

“Third, where does that energy come from? It doesn’t just _appear_ , it has to come from somewhere. Also, you get weaker when you close off your emotions, as if energy is then _leaving_ you. Just now, when you thought that bit about emotion is weakness, the skin on your hand cracked. Then when you thought about love, it healed. So, there’s an active connection between you and some kind of energy source,” you ramble on, barely even able to get the words out fast enough in your excitement. You reach down and grasp his biceps, leaning over him and staring into his eyes in excitement.

 _“What if that energy source is Urizen himself?_ What if the Yamato _didn’t_ fully separate you from him, but _linked_ you? Linked two separate portions of Vergil’s soul? What if you could _siphon_ his life force? If a soul is quantifiable, _it isn’t infinite_ , that means there’s only so much of Vergil’s soul for you to share with Urizen. If you could gain _more_ of that soul back, maybe it would sort of, I don’t know, make you your own entity in the eyes of the universe and therefore _unable to be combined_ _back into Vergil_?”

You fall silent, waiting for him to react to your theory.

_It… makes a certain kind of sense. But that’s **quite** a few what ifs…_

He voices the thought to you and your brow furrows in thought. You bite your lip and lean back, crossing your arms and tapping your fingers as your mind continues to spin.

“Tell me everything you remember about the first time you guys faced Urizen. How it felt, what you did, _everything,_ ” you finally reply. He sighs heavily, sitting up at last and pulling his legs out from under you to cross them under his own thighs.

 ** _“Thou wilt go mad with horror if thou dost examine thus, every moment of my secret hours,”_** he recites carefully, the passage flowing through his mind like water in a streambed.

“V, just tell me. This is too important,” you respond and he nods as he casts his mind back to the hours before he had met you.

He swallows heavily and wets his lips before speaking. He remembers it well, the night Dante fell. It was the first time he’d come face to face with his demonic half since his rebirth and the experience had left a lasting memory.

Dante had seemed to be invincible that day, going toe to toe with Urizen for almost an hour before he and Nero had caught up. Catching glimpses through the internal structure of the tree, V had been able to see Dante in action for a few moments. He remembered fighting him as Vergil, remembered the way Dante seamlessly changed tactics. _Annoying, really._

Against Urizen, he had needed to use every tool at his disposal. Every dirty trick, every clever gimmick. He had danced out of the path of missiles, glided through rays of energy, taken every shot he could even as he was avoiding being hit. It was a beautiful thing, to see Dante at his best. Enough to give V hope that perhaps this would all work out.

But it was not so. By the time he finally caught up to Nero ( _how he’d **hated** being left behind!_), they had already been defeated.

________________ 

His eyes dart around the scene, taking everything in as quickly as he can. Dante, on the ground. Trish and Lady, unconscious. Nero, struggling to stand up and blood seeping down from his torn scalp. And Urizen, his other half, seated on a throne of horrors. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, telling him to run, to _flee_ in order to survive, but why bother? If the legendary Dante failed, who could hope to best Urizen?

_All is lost, then._

“This is it, this is the end! It’s all over!” Griffon shouts, echoing his own thoughts.

A fireball begins to gather in Urizen’s extended right hand, one that will wipe the lot of them out of existence. V can suddenly barely stand, can hardly _breathe_ as the fireball grows. Seeing his other half… its so much worse than he imagined.

_I have to merge with **that**? I have to allow that monstrosity to join with me or die? Is this truly my only choice?_

The thought fills him with such dread that he cannot move. He looks at Nero, who still has yet to fully stand. He won’t be of any assistance. V’s emerald eyes and open mouth show his true fear, yet even as he struggles to step forward and face his fate, Dante miraculously rises.

A single shot echoes in the cavernous room as Dante fires into Urizen’s hand, quenching the still-growing fireball. A small rush of energy flows through him as the sound fades.

“Round two,” Dante says with a rueful grin and transforms in a wave of crimson energy. His devil form emerges, one of fire and ash. He draws his sword and leaps back into the fray, landing a crushing blow against Urizen’s shield. The force of the two titans clashing shakes the Qlipoth and the ceiling cracks, giant chunks raining down.

“V! Get Nero out of here! This is a bad move!” shouts Dante, his voice distorted in his demonic form. V can see it’s costing him everything he has to keep Urizen occupied.

“I can still fight!” Nero exclaims tiredly as he finally manages to rise. _Only a Sparda would be so stubborn._

“Nero, _go_! You’re just dead weight!” Dante shouts back, barely able to glance over his shoulder long enough to get the words out.

“Back off!” Nero yells, desperate to prove himself. A chunk of rubble lands right in front of where Nero was about to step as V pulls him back just in time.

“Come on,” he says as he helps the young devil hunter to his feet, trying to get him to leave as Dante ordered. Even now, doing what Dante tells him leaves him feeling strange, an almost instinctual urge to fight and oppose Dante’s will nearly taking hold. _Not this time._

“Let go!” Nero begs, still struggling against V’s weak grasp. If the young man had two arms, V would have had no hope to restrain him.

“We must leave here. He is far stronger than we could have imagined!” V shouts, struggling to be heard above the cacophony of falling debris. He wrestles Nero back farther, grappling him out of Urizen’s chamber as more and more rubble falls, blocking the entrance.

“That _bastard_ called me dead weight! I didn’t come all this way for _nothing_!” Nero cries out as he reaches toward the battle yet again.

V finally loses his patience and yanks the other man against a wall, pinning him against it with his silver cane. He wants to punch him, utterly frustrated by their failure, but stifles the urge.

“Stop hitting yourself and think of ways to get stronger and _actually help_. If Dante loses...you are all that can defeat Urizen,” he says, trying to get the young warrior to see sense. _How can he hope to defeat that evil with only one arm?_

“Is that what you call him?” Nero responds, finally calming down enough to be reasonable. The entrance is now completely blocked, but both men look towards it anyway. Hoping, _praying_ that Dante would somehow emerge victorious.

He doesn’t.

“Yes, Urizen, the demon king… That’s the name of the demon that took your arm,” V gasps out, winded by dragging Nero out and by the dust clouding the air.

The two men wait as long as they can, but eventually they share a glance and know that their time has run out. They run as quickly as they can manage back the way they came, getting as close to the outside of the tree as they can. Nero pulls out his sword to cut a way out, but it only creates sparks as the blade skitters across the surface of the tree.

“Allow me,” V says, his hand shakily rising to snap and summon Nightmare. Perhaps blunt force would be more effective than a piercing weapon. Nightmare bubbles up from the ground nearby, its huge hands clumsily pushing it to its feet. V climbs up the creatures back, using his cane to gain purchase. He guides Nightmare to the wall, commanding it to smash it down and jump, praying that it works and doesn’t get him killed.

He’s lucky.

Nightmare lands on the crowded street, almost instantly bubbling back into V’s snow-white hair. He is dismayed but not surprised by the number of people who have gathered to observe the tree. _People always flock to catastrophe. Fools._

Nero manages to land in a crouch, having jumped with V through the hole made by Nightmare. The fact that he doesn’t break both his legs attests to his demonic heritage.

A dark-skinned man approaches the two men, a worried look on his grizzled face. _Morrison._

“What happened to Dante? Where’s _Dante_?” he asks, seemingly unable to comprehend Dante’s failure. _Understandable. My brother is known for finding miracles._

“He’s buying time, but… it doesn’t look good,” V tells him. A rumble makes all three men look back to see spiky black and red tentacles erupt out of the ground and skewer the foolish people gathered. Gasps and cries of pain ring out, but V’s expression doesn’t change.

“This can’t be happening… Dante _lost_?” Morrison exclaims, still reeling.

Nero steps forward, presumably to attempt to save some poor fools from being impaled, but V holds his cane out and blocks his path.

“Forget it, there’s nothing we can do. We must go…” he says, and Nero makes a sound of disgust before finally walking away.

________________

“It wasn’t much later that we found you, Y/N. Enough time for me to realize how little a chance we stood, and to feel powerless to do anything to curb my other half’s growing power. I couldn’t help the people at the base of the tree, I know that. But seeing you out there, trying to help, _you_ I could save. I don’t know how I knew, but I did.”

He swallows again, the guilt of his failures overwhelming him for a brief instant as you absorb his story, picking it apart and analyzing it.

“So, you felt _weaker_ as the fireball appeared? And stronger the moment is was put out?” you ask. He nods, the memory still fresh in his mind from the retelling. Your lips stretch into a wide smile, eyes glittering with joy.

“That sounds like concrete evidence to me!” you exclaim happily, but V still has his doubts. Even so, he keeps them to himself for now, not wanting to spoil this moment for you. Instead, he reaches out and pulls you against his chest for a hug, the simple contact a soothing warmth on his worried soul.

_I should hug her more often._

After a long moment in his arms, you pull away, offering him a hand up once you’re standing again. He smiles gratefully at you but doesn’t accept it.

_I must test this for myself._

He thinks of the moment he held you in his arms for the first time, that hug that had meant _so damn much_ to him. A surge of energy shoots through him, a small flicker of warmth growing in his chest as he stands.

_Perhaps she’s right…?_

**It’s better than what you had ten minutes ago…**

_True, at least this theory doesn’t end in my demise._

A low roar and the sounds of a rockslide join in, voicing their approval at Griffon’s image of him with grey hair, wrinkled and ancient as he still holds your equally old form in his arms. V can’t help the gentle smile from twisting his lips, the image one he had never had the courage to imagine yet it shows him his heart’s deepest desire. He memorizes the image, storing it in his mind forever. The small flame of hope in his chest burns on.

________________ 

June 13th, 2:12 pm

You descend the stairwell slowly, careful to settle your weight on your uninjured hip before moving your crutches on each step. V is in front of you, frequently glancing back to check on your progress. As he takes the final step onto the ground floor, he turns to face you and you smile, his care always a reassurance.

“Nero? You still here?” you call out, to no response. V strides to the desk, cane twirling absentmindedly as he spots a piece of paper.

 _“Back in an hour, hope you two enjoy yourselves,”_ he murmurs with a smirk, holding the note up for you to see the winking smiley face at the bottom. You blush as you remember how loud you and V had been upstairs, but it had been _so worth it!_

You grunt softly as you sit on one of the couches nearby, resting your tired arms from the strain of walking n crutches everywhere. Suddenly, you can understand why so many patients stopping using their crutches a few weeks earlier than the doctor told them; it was a total pain.

V crosses his arms and leans against the massive desk that is clearly the centerpiece of Dante’s space. His brows are furrowed, biting his lip deep in thought.

_He looks **so** sexy when he does that…_

“Do you think it’s only the emotion of love that can be effective against Urizen?” he asks you quietly, and now it’s your turn to ponder. Love is definitely one of the most intense feelings one can experience, but if the whole theory hinged on V embracing his humanity…

_What does it mean to be human?_

_I am so not qualified to answer that question._

“I… I can’t even begin to guess. I suppose it depends on what it means to be human,” you venture and he nods thoughtfully.

 ** _“Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and revulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human existence,”_** he recites with a smirk.

“So… what reviles you? What do you hate?” you probe the poet.

He uncrosses his arms, crossing over to sit beside you as he thinks deeply. A long moment passes before his lips part once more.

“Dante,” he growls harshly and you recoil slightly from his tone, unused to hearing such hatred in his sweet voice.

_He truly hates his brother._

“Okay, well… how do you feel when you think of him?” you ask him.

“I feel… a powerful _rage_ , a _thirst_ … it’s a different sort of strength from when I dwell on you, but a form of vigor nonetheless,” he answers after a moment.

“I guess anger and hatred are pretty human…” you whisper softly. He shakes his head, glancing at you through his obsidian hair with a smirk.

“I’d much rather keep my thoughts on _you_ , little fox,” he supplies, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze to emphasize his words. You smile back at him and lean on his tattooed shoulder, closing your eyes to wait for Nero’s return.

________________ 

A parade of faces confronts you, accusing glares filling their numerous eyes. They flash by your vision in a slow march of blame, each mouth voicing the same few words that fall on your ears and thrust blades into your heart.

“Why didn’t you save me?”

The familiar sensation of your guilt rises inside you, a torrent of self-loathing that you can never seem to repress or defeat, not fully. The faces grow angrier as you stand before them in silence, spittle flecking from their lips as they shout the words at you.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAVE ME?”

Your shoulders shake with heaving sobs, tears painting your cheeks in an expression of your pain.

 _“I tried! I tried so hard, but I wasn’t good enough!”_ you scream at the faces through your choked breathing.

One face stops, the parade coming to a halt as the dead eyes of your best friend stare at you dully, glazed and expressionless as her lips move to form the most painful words of all.

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t even try. You may as well have strangled me yourself,” she says mercilessly, twisting the blades embedded in your chest by the other faces.

_“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I was scared, and stupid, and too weak to tell Evan the truth! I’m so sorry!”_

“Sorry doesn’t fix it. Nothing will ever balance your debt, _nothing._ ”

You wail at the truth in her words, molten lead pooling in your lungs and dripping down your face, your tears leaving a trail of scorched flesh behind as they drip off your chin.

________________ 

You wake with a pained scream, your senses snapping back to you in a rush of stimuli. You hear a door open and footsteps approach as you pant, the echoes of your nightmare raging in your mind as V comes around the corner, his face stricken.

You force your hands to unclench as he reaches you, his arms instantly wrapping around you, enveloping you in his scent. He doesn’t say a word as you slowly calm in his embrace, just patiently holding you until your breathing returns to normal.

“What was it this time?” he asks you eventually.

You take a deep breath, the images still dancing across your mind.

“It was my friend, and everyone else who I couldn’t save. She said… she said I would never be able to repay the debt, never be able to make up for letting her die, letting Evan kill her for _my mistake_ ,” you tell him mournfully.

“His name was Evan? You didn’t mention that when you told me. Or what your supposed mistake was,” he murmurs cautiously and you sigh.

“It was so stupid… but I should’ve known better. Evan was my stepfather. He was… he had issues with heroin. My mom didn’t know, but I had caught him shooting up once. He told me he would kill me if I ever told her,” you begin, doing your best to numb your heart to the painful memories. V strokes your back softly, offering comfort as you remember the worst day of your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, such a romantic Reader is... I admit, I haven't decided if her plan will work yet. As I wrote at the very beginning of this journey, I have two possible endings in mind. Knowing me, I'll probably end up posting both eventually lol!!
> 
> Today's musical inspiration - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8qLL2Gx3I_k and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xmVzeriU5m0
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, leaving kudos and your COMMENTS!!! OMG I was so happy to get more than one on last chapter you guys, felt so good!
> 
> Next Chapter - MASSIVE CONTENT WARNING!!!!! I wrote out the scene Reader's friend dies. Bear in mind both she and her friend are under 16 years old. If you are not comfortable reading about a guy killing a kid, SKIP NEXT CHAPTER!!!!


	19. The Depths of Evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, SKIP THIS if you are not okay with reading about Evan murdering a young girl. I can't tell you what your comfort level is, so I don't know how far on the spectrum of disturbing this is for you. 
> 
> **********CHILD DEATH************

“Lara, Y/N, get in here NOW!” you heard Evan shout from outside the treehouse. You dropped the magazine you and Lara had snuck out of your mom’s room, blushing and giggling furiously as you read the articles about _“How to Keep Your Man Happy In Bed!”_

_Did he find out what I did?_

You swallowed nervously and crawled over to the rope ladder leading to the ground, your practiced body descending it in seconds. Lara followed close behind you, jumping off with a soft exhalation. Evan was standing at the door to his shed, and the look of absolute rage on his face made your blood run cold and your body quake in terror.

_He knows!_

Lara meekly followed him into the shed as you prayed for mercy from the hateful man. All you had wanted was for him to stop doing drugs, to make your mom happy again, make her _smile_ again. Hiding the little bag of off-white dust had seemed like such a foolproof plan, but as you entered the shed behind your best friend and hear the door slam, you realized how wrong you had been.

_What’s he going to do?_

“Which one of you stole my stuff?” he spat at you, saliva flying off his lips. You didn’t answer, too terrified to open your mouth. You crossed your fingers, hoping that Lara followed your lead; silence was always the best way to get through his moments of rage.

“What stuff?” Lara asked.

_Oh, no…_

Evan’s purpling face turned on her, his fists clenching as he looked her in the eye.

“Ít was you, wasn’t it? Y/N isn’t quite _that_ stupid,” he growled at her.

“What’s missing? I can help you look!” Lara exclaimed, always one to try and help. You cringed, knowing exactly how Evan would take it.

“Don’t you mock me, you little _shit_! You know exactly where it is!” he screamed at her, and tears started falling from her lovely green eyes.

_No, Lara, don’t cry! He **hates** tears!_

You jumped as his meaty fist swung past you and wrapped around her thin neck. She gasped as he squeezed, lifting her off her feet and bringing her face to face with him.

“Where… Is… my… stuff?” he whispered threateningly, his fingers still loose enough for her to speak.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m sorry!” she cried and his face twitched as he spun around and pushed her small body against the wooden wall. You could see the absolute terror in her green gaze as his fingers clenched, cutting off her breathing.

For a moment she hung limply from his grasp, her eyes meeting yours in a silent scream for help. You imagined yourself jumping on Evan’s broad shoulders, smashing something over his head and knocking him out, but you were far too terrified to actually do anything.

Lara’s eyes widened as she saw the paralyzing fear in your eyes, her child-like hands coming up to rake at his forearm, her short legs kicking out at him desperately. You can hear her breath, now a choking sound like after you swallowed food the wrong way. Evan leaned closer to her, his furious gaze drilling into her eyes cruelly as he asked her once more.

“Tell me or I _will_ kill you.”

“I… I don’t—” she gasped out, her fingers clawing at his arm and leaving angry red scratches.

He snarled and pressed her against the wall even harder. Your chin quivered as you struggled not to cry, a childish hope that he would stop still running through your mind.

Lara looked at you again, begging and pleading with her gaze for you to do something, _anything,_ but your feet were still frozen to the floor as she opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. Her arms and legs grew weaker, her desperate thrashing slowing as Evan held his murderous grip around her throat.

You closed your eyes. You heard the rustling of her limbs slow even more, then stop entirely with a final soft gasp of air. You heard Evan turn around, and a soft thud at your feet.

“Look. _Look, you little fuck!”_ he howls at you and you knew better than to resist.

You opened your eyes and saw Lara, her still body on the ground at your feet. Frothy spittle on her lips. Green eyes frozen open in confusion and fear, the spark of life gone from her gaze forever.

Your tears fell then.

You were fourteen.

Lara was twelve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene was inspired by the suicide of a close friend of mine, and all the feelings I had to sort through. She was 27. 
> 
> For those who read this, I promise next chapter will have some nice fluff, some easy fun stuff to help deal with that.
> 
> This song seems appropriate - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBOpWY_B1vM
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting.
> 
> (Please don't be mad - I warned you three times! *braces self*)
> 
> Next Chapter - Homecoming, and some super fun times with Nico and Nero!!!


	20. Revelry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys... after that last chapter I sat down and wrote this to make myself feel better. Enjoy your fluff, my friends, you've earned it after all that angst I just shoved down your throats.
> 
> ***Summary for those who skipped last chapter - Evan is Reader's heroin addicted stepfather, and when she once hid his stash in an effort to get him clean (she was 14) he killed her best friend in a fit of rage, thinking she had been the one to hide it.

At some point during your story, V had started pacing. His face is twisted almost beyond recognition in rage, steps thundering across the floor unaided by his cane. His entire body screams his need to fight, to destroy something. As you finally fall silent, he turns to face you.

“What happened to him?” he growls menacingly, fists balled at his sides. You want so badly to lie, but you find the truth spilling from your trembling lips as the last few tears dry on your cheeks.

“He… he ran. He hid her body somewhere and left. As far as I know he still hasn’t been caught,” you murmur sadly. You stand up, about to give him a hug as he jerks back. His arm flies out and you barely manage to pull his elbow enough to keep his hand from hitting the wall. You take the opportunity to wrap your arms around him, cradling his tense body against yours as he seethes in fury.

“I know, I know… but hurting yourself won’t do any good,” you whisper into the shell of his ear. It takes several minutes, but he eventually lets out a deep sigh as his muscles unclench.

**_“What evil lurks, I must destroy._** After Urizen is gone, I will find him. And I will destroy him utterly,” he growls. You kiss his cheek.

“I’ll help,” you hiss, and he smiles.

________________

By the time Nero gets back, you and V have managed to calm down. To your delight and surprise, Nico steps in behind him, her eyes wide as she takes in the home of the legendary Dante. It takes her less than three seconds to see the weapons displayed behind the desk and she squeaks, running to look closer like a kid in a candy store.

“Nico! What are you doing here? I thought you’d be staying with the van?” you ask her curiously. She smirks, not even looking at you as she responds.

“And miss out on seeing _Dante’s place?_ No way! This is awesome!” she exclaims happily, her fingertips tenderly stroking the handle of a small pistol.

_Only Nico would ignore the rest of the room’s state of disaster and go straight to the weapons…_

“I tried to tell her to stay, but she just wouldn’t listen! She said she’d just follow me if I didn’t let her come!” Nero adds, annoyance evident in his tone and the roll of his eyes.

He carefully removes his massive sword from his back before sitting on one of the couches, stretching his arms and legs out fully and sighing happily.

“ _Damn_ , I’ve missed this couch!” he mumbles and you smirk.

_This could be a fun night, seems like everybody needs to relax a bit._

“V, can you get my backpack for me please?” you ask the lean poet with an overly-sweet smile. He smirks and stands, his long stride bringing him to your bag within four steps. He gives you a curious look as you paw through the mish mash of snacks, medical supplies, and clothing, finding what you wanted at the very bottom. You shake one of the bottles, the sound of the amber fluid within drawing every eye in the room as your lips stretch into a grin the Cheshire cat would be proud of.

“Who wants to do some shots?” you ask slyly.

_“Now_ we’re talking!” Nico shouts excitedly, quickly dragging another seat near you and plopping down onto it with a grin.

“I’ll get some glasses,” Nero chimes in and he walks out of the room, his signature heavy steps thudding against the wooden floor. V simply smiles and sits back down next to you, an arm draping casually around your shoulders.

“When did you pick _that_ up, little fox?” he inquires with a raised eyebrow.

“At Frank’s, when we got the motorcycle. And best part? I got plenty!” you answer him as you pull out another two bottles, all three mostly full. Nico’s eyes widen.

“Dibs on the whiskey!” she shouts out, already reaching for it. You laugh and let her take it, holding on to the vodka and tequila. Nero stomps back, four small mismatched plastic cups in hand.

“No clean glasses, as usual. Found these though, should work well enough,” he announces. He drags the massive desk over to where you, V and Nico are gathered, leaving the cups on top to go pull up his beloved couch.

“Tequila or vodka, gentlemen?” you inquire as Nero settles back into his splayed out pose.

“What’s Nico got, is that whiskey?” Nero asks suspiciously, easily grabbing the bottle from her grasp. She sticks out her tongue at him as he pours himself a drink, giving the bottle back to her once his cup has a solid amount of liquor.

You pour yourself a cup of vodka, your throat already burning in apprehension of it sliding past your lips. As Nico pours herself an almost full cup of whiskey, you turn to V with the bottles.

“Pick your poison, my poet,” you instruct him with a coy smile. He looks baffled as he studies the two bottles intently for a moment before shrugging.

“I’ll try whatever you’re having, little fox,” he replies and you _almost_ warn him, but this would be too funny!

_He’ll forgive me… right?_

You hand him a cup of vodka, careful to only give him a little in case he dropped the cup when he tried it. The four of you raise your glasses, V slightly delayed but catching on quickly. The plastic collides and everyone shouts out their own version of _Cheers!_

You take a large gulp of the harsh alcohol, swallowing instantly to minimize the amount of time it’s on your tongue with a toss of your head. You look at V just in time to see his eyes widen as he innocently takes a sip and tastes it like _wine_. He somehow manages not to spit it out, spluttering through his discomfort and blushing slightly.

“That was… an experience,” he pipes up after a moment to catch his breath, and you snicker heartily as you pour him more vodka. He gives you a pitiful look, but still raises his cup to click against yours.

“Like this, V. Don’t let it sit in your mouth,” you instruct him with a demonstration. He studies the way you drink before imitating you as best he can, doing better than you would have expected as he cringes adorably.

“Oh! Oh! You guys, we gotta play truth or dare!” Nico suddenly exclaims, her once nearly full cup already half-empty. Nero rolls his eyes, taking another sip of his own helping.

“Yes! Who’s going first?” you answer excitedly. She smirks, waggling her eyebrows as she speaks.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

_Of course… uhhh…_

“Dare!” your rebellious mouth says before your brain catches up.

“I dare ya to sit in V’s lap the rest of the night!” she orders you with a wide grin.

“Pffft… easy,” you reply, setting down your cup momentarily to climb into V’s lap. He blushes lightly but shifts his hips to get more comfortable, his free arm wrapping around you and stroking your skin deliciously.

“Okay, my turn… Nero, truth or dare!”

He sighs heavily, taking another sip as he answers reluctantly.

“Dare.”

_Oh, yeah, I gotta think of something too… ummm…._

“I dare you to sing a song for us!” you cry out finally. He shrugs, setting down his cup and sitting up straight.

_“It’s been such a loooong tiiiiime… I think I should be go-oo-ing…”_

_…Boston? Nice!_

Nero’s singing voice is surprisingly pleasant, a tenor if you had to guess. Nico starts clapping her hands in time, V bobbing his head and as Nero gets to the first guitar solo, he stands and plays an air guitar. You giggle as he lifts his leg onto the table and finishes with a dramatic flourish.

Nico whoops as everyone claps for Nero as he takes his seat again, pouring himself a bit more to drink with a sneaky swipe of the whiskey bottle at her feet.

“V, truth or dare?’ he asks, and the lean poet chuckles as he replies.

“Most definitely dare.”

_Oh yeah, the truth could be kinda… yeah._

You take another swig of vodka as Nero thinks for a moment. His face lights up with a devilish smile as he looks V right in the eye.

“I dare _you_ to _tap dance_ ,” he says, pointing his finger for extra emphasis.

V rumbles out a low chuckle as you shuffle off his lap. He picks up his cane and steps into an area without furniture. You watch in amazement as he performs a short routine reminiscent of Gene Kelly’s _Singing In The Rain_ , his feet a dazzling display of coordination. He winks right at you as he twirls his cane in his palm, posing dramatically as a closer.

You and your friends burst into applause as he pushes his hair out of his face, returning to his seat with his signature smirk. Nico gives you a look and you climb back into his lap, giving him a playful kiss as your weight settles, to Nico’s raucous hoots and hollers. As you pull away you feel V’s cock twitch under you and you glance at him to see a wink lighting up his features.

_Oh… I’ll **get** you back for that, mister…_

You take another swig of your drink as V looks at the obvious target: Nico.

“Truth,” she states calmly and you and Nero both groan sadly.

“Hey, I play to win, y’all!” she claims.

“Nico, there isssn’t a _winner_ in Truth or Dare…” you inform her with a slight slur and she giggles.

“Sure, there is! The person who gets the most people to blush, wins!” she cries out with a grin, taking a _huge_ gulp of whiskey.

“Well, shit, I am NOT keeping score,” Nero chimes in, sipping again. You giggle as he wags a finger at Nico.

________________ 

V

V feels oddly light, a low buzz in his ears and a pleasant warmth in his belly.

_AND in my lap!_

He grins to himself happily, taking another gulp of vodka as you’d kindly shown him… _eventually_. The liquid burns fiercely and he holds his breath to subdue the sensation, schooling his features in a blank mask despite his overwhelming urge to cringe.

**Damn, Shakesssspeare! Good stuff, bout time you… got drunk!**

_Griffon? Do you feel it too?_

**Hell yes… you _gotta_ do this more often, pal…**

A strangely subdued roar and a long clash of rocks emphasize his words and V laughs heartily, everyone else staring at him in surprise as he guffaws.

“V? You ok?” you ask him worriedly. The look on your face makes him warm inside.

_Sure is nice to have someone care about me…_

**Oh for cryin out loud… lemme out of here!**

V wiggles a finger and _pulls,_ a blast of black shards erupting from his arm in a chaotic cloud. It drifts slowly to the floor before resolving itself to form Griffon.

“Oh, thank _god!_ Shakespeare’s _toasted_ , people!” he slurs, stumbling slightly as he tries to fluff his feathers.

“Griffonnnn! Are you drunk too?” you stage whisper to the bird on the floor, leaning down slightly and digging your hips against his, making him clench his jaw.

The bird huffs, seemingly insulted but unable to deny the truth as he has to hold his wings out slightly for balance. V feels you wiggle in his lap _again_ and let out a giggle. He has to bite his tongue lightly to hold back a low moan and you wink mischievously at him.

_Not… fair…_

“Griffon, you should play with us!” Nico belts out suddenly. You start laughing uncontrollably in V’s lap, almost bouncing against him and he can’t hold it in this time – a small moan escapes him.

“Jeez, Shakespeare, you’re a frigging _lightweight_ …” Griffon mumbles from the floor with a chuckle. Nico leans over and pats the blue bird on the head lightly, shushing him.

“It’s alright, lil chickee. I’m sure Y/N will take _real_ good care of him for ya!”

The feathered fiend sighs and dramatically responds, “That’s what I’m afraid of! If he can’t focus well enough to block it, we _all_ see what happens! I’m already _scarred for life_ from when the idiot first got _hard_!”

Both you and V go red, Nero shaking his head and Nico letting out another peal of laughter as she sits back up straight. She takes another sip of her whiskey and goes to refill, still snickering under her breath.

“That… isss _way_ more than I _ever_ needed to know…” Nero said with a shudder, glaring at Griffon and pointing his finger yet again. He takes a large gulp of whiskey and leans back again.

“V, when ya gonna tell me your question?” Nico pointedly adds.

“When… when I think of one?” the lean poet answers slowly, leaning his head back against the lip of the couch.

“It doesn’t have to be a super weird question, dude! You could just ask how I get my hair this full!” she snaps back, taking another sip. You chuckle under your breath as you follow her example, throwing your head back quickly to down the vodka painlessly.

_How did she learn that…?_

V struggles to think of a question for Nico, his normally focused and eloquent mind muddied and aimless under the influence. Finally he manages to grasp a thought long enough to state it out loud with a wicked grin.

“Nico, if you had to spend the night with any one of us, who would it be?”

She scoffs, taking another small sip before pointing at you. V pauses for a long moment, his heart beating strangely and his mind telling his muscles to tense, as if about to go into battle. His arm around your shoulders tightens and his cup is suddenly _painfully_ against his lips as he hides his frown with another sip.

“Nero’s basically my brother, so _ewwww,_ and no offense V, but you ain’t my type. Y/N’s got a sweet ass too, wouldn’t mind giving it a smack or two!” she elaborates. Nero grimaces at the idea of him and Nico, clearly sharing her sentiment.

The feeling of an impending fight intensifies and he glares at Nico, doing his best to be intimidating and failing utterly as she laughs in his face.

“Well, you _can’t_. Y/N is _mine_ , as I am _hers_ ,” he states petulantly. Griffon makes retching noises and Nero groans in agreement. V’s brows furrow and with a small wiggle of his finger, he brings Shadow out to join everyone. The black shards trace a lackadaisical path to the floor, _painfully_ slowly forming into Shadow’s form. Her paws are unsteady as she pads over to Nico, growling threateningly.

She reaches down and scratches Shadow under the chin, and the traitorous panther _purrs_.

_Fine… try and tame THIS!_

His fingers clumsily move, his thumb resting on his ring finger. He raises his hand, arm shaking slightly, and you shout in his lap as you immediately reach out and hold his hand still so he can’t snap.

“Whoa, whoa, _whoa_ , V! Bad idea!” you inform him and he frowns again.

“Well, you _are_ mine…” he insists and you smile at him fondly. You lean down to kiss him, lips parting and tongue tasting him in a dance he _adores_. His hand relaxes and you release it, allowing him to stroke your hair softly. He feels your lips twist against his and you grind against his lap, making him moan lewdly again.

“And _you_ are _mine_ , my poet…” you state clearly for all to hear. His heart leaps at your words, lips forming a pleased smile even as Griffon makes more retching noises from his post on the floor.

“Mmkay, now that everybody’s all nice and calm, it’s my turn! And I say Griffon is playing, so Griffon, truth or dare?” Nico demands of the beautiful demonic bird. He glares at her for a moment before surrendering to the inevitable.

“Truth…”

“How the _hell_ does a demon end up as a tattoo on some guys arm?” she instantly inquires.

_Wait… no…_

You take a large gulp of vodka as Griffon speaks, V following soon after.

“ _Technically_ , I’m not a demon. I’m more like a nightmare,” the bird blabs. Nico and Nero both wear a look of total confusion as V desperately tries to focus his energy and pull Griffon back in a flash of clarity, but it doesn’t work. You shoot him a subdued look of concern as Griffon continues.

“We’re the nightmares of V’s former self,” he slurs, and V’s eyes go wide. Even Shadow reacts, letting out a low warning growl from where she sits by Nico.

He tries again to pull Griffon back, and _again_ he can’t focus his will enough to succeed.

“I’m not really s’posed to say anything about it though. Very hush hush, top secret,” Griffon concludes with a conspiratorial nod of his strange beak. V breathes a sigh of relief as the moment passes, his secret still safe. More or less. He takes another sip of his drink for some reason he can’t quite pinpoint. Nero joins him and you reach out to refill his cup.

_That got empty quickly. How odd._

“Right, guess I gotta ask somebody now, huh?” Griffon asks the room, the entire group making noises of agreement. He tilts his head in a very birdlike fashion, thinking hard.

“Nero, truth or dare?”

Nero takes another small sip, his hand a little unsteady. “Darrrrre…” the young warrior slurs with an extended finger.

Griffon shuffles his feet, considering his options. He snickers as he decides.

“I dare ya to bench press Shadow!” he commands, and Nero _giggles._

He carefully sets his cup on the table and stands, stretching his shoulders out. Shadow pads her way over to an open area on the floor, wavering slightly. Nero joins her, an arm outstretched for balance. He lets out a low grunt as he sits heavily, leaning back onto the wooden floor with a grin. He gets his arms into position and Shadow gently lowers herself onto his hands. She goes limp and V can see a vein in the reckless man’s forehead bulge as he adjusts to Shadow’s considerable weight. Nero grunts heavily and lifts, his arms flexing at the strain.

All eyes are glued to him as he sluggishly fights gravity to lift Shadow, managing to get her up a few inches. He lets out a yell, similar to the ones he uses in battle, his teeth clenching as he forces his arms up into a full lift. He gasps and immediately, Shadow’s pads extend and she takes her weight off the poor warrior.

The entire group cheers heartily for his efforts as he sits up slowly. He takes a moment to stand, letting Shadow help him up and he returns to his favorite couch with a satisfied smile.

“Whew, wasn’t sure I was gonna make it for a second!” he comments, and the group laughs. He sits in silence for a long moment, clearly getting his bearings.

“Alright, Y/N, truth or dare?” he finally asks you. You shift your weight as you think, making V twitch beneath you again. He strokes your hip lazily, an ineffective attempt to tease you right back.

“Dare!” you boldly answer with another small wiggle, eliciting an animalistic growl from V.

“ _Fuck_ , you two are disgustingly into each other. I dare ya to just go upstairs and screw already, so we don’t have to _watch_ this crap anymore tonight,” the white-haired warrior instructs you. Nico doubles over in laughter, tears leaking form her eyes as she holds her stomach.

“Good idea, I can’t see shit when I’m out so _please_ go do it and leave me here!” Griffon adds helpfully. V blushes but his drunkenness makes him bold and he drops his voice as low as he can, practically _purring_ as his hand rubs small circles on your hip.

“You’ll not hear _me_ complain,” he says, bucking his hips just a fraction of an inch, and this time _you’re_ the one who lets out a moan. He smirks, quite pleased with himself.

“God, _seriously_! This is _torture_ , man! I miss Kyrie…” Nero comments.

For a moment V tries to imagine what that feels like, tries to imagine not seeing you for weeks. Not being able to touch you or see you smile, hear your laugh. His heart decides it wants to explore his throat and he swallows harshly to force it back into his rib cage.

“I’m… so sorry, Nero. I… can’t quite imagine how that must feel,” V stammers with a sympathetic glance.

“Thanks, man… just go _screw_ already, will ya? There’s a guest room in the back… should be far enough that we won’t hear you…” Nero answers with a grateful smile.

You stand from his lap suddenly, making him miss your warmth instantly. You take his hand and pull him to his feet, clearly meaning to rise to the challenge. Nico waggles her eyebrows, sipping her whiskey as you walk away with V in tow. He manages to clap a hand on Nero’s shoulder as he passes, imitating the gesture of comfort the young man had extended to him when you were injured. Nero waves a hand in the air, waving the two of you off to commence your shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be my new favorite chapter, drunk V is just too damn much. It's refreshing to be able to just have him say things that normally he wouldn't (Booze is my new favorite plot device lol)
> 
> I was trying to close out the chapter with some smut but it just isn't coming... (hehehe, see what I did there? I'll show myself out) and I did NOT want to leave things hanging on that ending from last chapter tonight! 
> 
> Today's soundtrack - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdnGM234fe0 (this is also here because I love the artwork, FMA is the bomb!)  
> And https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EPKkjUpwwGY (just so much fun to sing along)
> 
> As always, my truest and most heartfelt gratitude for reading my work, for leaving kudos and for taking the time to leave me a few words. I love every single one of you, automatically! 
> 
> Next Chapter - I'll see if my inner smut goblin wants to play. Also we *might* reach the 16th of June at long freaking last and actually get into the parts showed in the game! Stay tuned :P


	21. All Laid Bare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy weekend, my friends! Good news for ya, my inner smut goblin did indeed decide to visit me, so we're starting off with some smut today! 
> 
> *********THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW**********
> 
> Enjoy!

The second you have V out of view of your friends, your mouth is on his with a low whine. His hands pull you closer, _closer,_ as if he’s trying to pull you into his body. You weave your fingers in his and break your kiss to pull him farther down the long hallway, giggling as your pace increases to a clumsy run in excitement. V can’t help but grin like an idiot as he follows behind, joyful at your happiness.

You tug him past the library and beam lasciviously at the memory, the image sending a ball of heat to your stomach. You tug at V’s hand, making him stumble as he’s forced to catch up to you. You push his tattooed body against the wall with a growl and tug at the strings of his vest as you kiss him again.

_I hate this thing… such a pain to get it off!_

Somehow you manage to loosen the strings and you shove the heavy leather out of your way to kiss his stomach, his hand drifting to fist your hair as his head lolls back against the wall with a long moan. You leave a trail of blazing kisses on his skin, nipping gently here and there. You reach his neck and he forcefully pulls your face to his, lips crashing together like waves on a beach. You open to him, craving his unique flavor and the caress of his tongue and he eagerly obliges you.

_Are we still in the hallway…?_

You pull away and frown at the realization that you _really_ _shouldn’t_ rip his clothes off and mount him right here, right now. You take his hand again and reach the end of the hallway, pushing open the doors on both sides. One reveals what seems to be Dante’s room, messy and cluttered, but the other is a portal to a pristine guest room just _begging_ to be ruined. You grin and push V in before you, roughly slamming the door closed as you step across the threshold.

_I’m going to drive him crazy tonight…_

________________

V

Your hands shoot to his ribs, tearing at his vest like an animal. You bare your teeth and growl in frustration as it doesn’t immediately drop to the floor, but he’s all too happy to help and suddenly his chest is bare and _you’re kissing his stomach again and your hands are setting his skin on fire and his hands are in your hair and his pants are gone and he can’t think, the things your mouth is doing –_

_Oooohhhh…. **Fuck** , she’s good at that…!_

He whimpers as your mouth leaves his cock, and you lick it once more with a smirk as you rise and pull off your shirt, your bra falling to the floor in almost the same motion.

“So beautiful…” he murmurs as your skin is bared to his hungry gaze, and suddenly it’s not enough to just look, he _has_ to touch you.

He closes the gap between you with a single stride, his hands on your waist instantly as the two of you stumble your way to the bed. You gasp his name breathily and he grinds against you, his hard length easily slipping between your thighs and rubbing against you teasingly. He plants his full lips against yours, your flavor driving him absolutely _wild_ as he leans over you, carefully laying you down on the soft blankets. You turn your head to the side, breaking his kiss and he looks at you in confusion for a moment.

“No, my poet, I want you _under_ me tonight…” you tell him with a slight blush. He quirks an eyebrow at you, daring you to make your will a reality.

You surge against him, the sudden movement toppling him over onto the bed and rolling you atop him. He adapts quickly with a lopsided grin, rolling his hips into you the moment his back hits the bed and you let out a delicious whine, feeling him through the thin fabric of your pants. His hand traces the edge of your bandage, the injury seemingly not bothering you in the slightest tonight and you smile down at him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” you whisper as you stand, hands roughly shoving your pants to the floor. He quirks an eyebrow when he sees a flash of red as you precariously climb over his body. His emerald gaze takes in the image of you straddling him, a sharp bolt of electricity shooting down his spine to his hips and coming to rest there. His eyes follow the curves of your body down and he licks his lips as he sees the lacy panties you’re wearing.

_I’ve just discovered my favorite color is red…_

“I wore them just for you, V,” you murmur, “Do you want me to leave them on?”

_Fuck, yes!_

He moans it out loud and that wonderful smile he loves _so damn much_ graces your face. Your hands carefully shift the fabric to the side and you grind against him, both of you letting out a guttural moan at the blessed friction and the _wet sound_ it makes. V watches in awe as you drag his long fingers to your core, the meaning plain. He smirks as he dips a finger inside your folds and finds your tiny bundle of nerves waiting for his touch.

He patiently moves his fingers, his hazy mind struggling to remember the exact stroke and pressure you like. Even so, he has you panting above him shortly, his lustful smile growing as your moans increase in pitch. When he knows you’re standing on the knifes edge, he jerks his torso up, his unoccupied arm wrapping around you in a tender embrace to help pull himself up.

In the midst of his passion and intoxication, he can’t bring forth a _single_ _line_ of poetry. The realization only fazes him for an instant before he finds the words within himself.

“Come on, little fox, show me that which is mine alone,” he purrs softly against your chest, just loud enough for you to hear. He takes one of your sweet buds between his full lips, his eyes on yours as he watches your face react to his mouth and his fingertips. The way you moan his name makes him instinctively buck his hips against yours to press his arousal closer to what it craves, a rush more intoxicating than the drinks downstairs pulsing through his veins as you go rigid above him, lips opening in a shuddering moan around the single syllable.

Hundreds of lines of William Blake’s words flash in his mind as he watches you, his memory returning to him in a stream. None of them are adequate, and so again he finds his own words.

“You are poetry in motion, my love. Transcendently beautiful,” he murmurs as you slowly regain your senses. You lean forward, forcing him back down onto the blankets as you give him an angelic smile.

“So many lovely words in you, my poet, yet I’m going to leave you speechless,” you tell him, as if in a promise. He bucks his hips against you again, a low groan escaping him at your words. Your hands go to the center of his warmth, guiding it gently to your core and slowly moving your hips to bring him home. A storm of fireworks begins in his pelvis, the cascading rush of pleasure enough to make him groan as he stretches your walls to their limits as you fully sheath him.

And then you _move_. You roll your hips, grinding even as you lift and drop down on him again and he cries out your name over and over in a chorus of appreciation for all the things you’re making him _feel_. He puts his hands on your hips, feeling the motion you’re making and gripping you tightly as he bucks against you in an endless quest to delve ever deeper.

His gasps and low moans fill the air as you continue rocking against him, his emerald eyes watching you move above him joyously. Your own cries mix with his as his hands shift, dipping in to tease your clit with every stroke. He moves his fingertips in the way he knows drives you crazy and a high-pitched whine escapes your throat to reward his efforts.

“Ah, V! _Fuck_ , I’m so close!”

“I’m _right_ behind you, love!”

He accelerates his movements, his flesh slamming against yours in the mess you had made, just for _him_.

“Tell me you’re _mine_!” he growls at you, his piercing gaze locked on your own.

“I’m _yours_ , V! I’m _all_ yours!” you cry out, planting your hands on his chest and using the leverage to roll against him _even harder_ somehow, and your words send him tumbling over the edge with a low grunt. His eyes flutter closed as his fingers work your body, a metaphysical pull on your hands as you follow him with a harsh gasp, the two of you pulsing together in your shared ecstasy, your nails digging into his chest as you go rigid.

“I love you!” he shouts hoarsely at the height of his pleasure, his voice almost breaking.

“I love you, too!” you answer him instantly, and a fierce burst of explosive energy fills every fiber of his being, saturating his senses in starlight.

The echoes of your words fade, your body seeming to be made out of constellations for a moment as his vision returns to normal. V sighs happily, the pleasant hum of alcohol still sounding in his mind as he strokes your sides with his thumbs, his fingertips reveling in the softness of your skin. You smile down at him, face still flushed from his attentions as you lean down to rest your form atop his own. Your hair splays across his chest as his hands reach up to stroke it gently, enjoying the simple warmth of this moment.

After a time, he takes a deep breath and rolls you so he can stand. He smirks at the sight of your body displayed on the blankets, your activities evident in the glow on your cheeks and the dripping fluids between your legs and giving him a surge of pride. He commits the image to his memory before searching the room for something to clean you up with.

When V returns, you’re already asleep. A soft smile crosses his lips and he gently moves your body into a more comfortable resting position. He tenderly wipes around your entrance, shifting the lacy panties you had surprised him with back into place once he’s satisfied. The room spins for a moment as he stands up again, but he pushes through it to pull the blankets out from under you and lovingly covers you with the warm fabric. His task done, he stumbles to the other side of the bed and crawls in next to you, his arm automatically wrapping around you and holding you close as his breathing changes into the steady rhythm of sleep.

________________  

 June 14th, 10:37 am

You wake with a low groan, already knowing not to open your eyes as the horrible dryness in your mouth hits you. You feel V curled up behind you, his arm draped across your waist lazily.

_How much did I drink last night…?_

You open one eye and the world does an alarming wiggle as it slowly settles in place. You focus on not moving, steadying your perception as you try to focus.

_Too much._

You close your eye again and pull away from V, standing carefully with arms outstretched. Your equilibrium tangles and shifts uncomfortably but you manage to get one hand against the wall, bracing yourself on something you know won’t move. You hear a pained moan from V as he wakes as well and you cringe in sympathy.

“Y/N, I think Urizen might be doing something to me…” he mutters worriedly and you have to stifle a snicker.

“No, V, you have a hangover. It’s normal after drinking as much as we did,” you inform him quietly. You open your eyes slowly and look for your clothes so you can get some water and your backpack from downstairs.

“You have it too?” he asks, and you can almost hear his thoughts, his concern for your well being and his frustration as his own dizziness and nausea that keep him from being able to help you.

“Don’t worry, my sweet poet, I know how to handle it. I’ll be right back,” you tell him reassuringly as you finally spot your pants. Bending over to pick them up is downright sickening as your stomach rolls. You swallow heavily and fight the feeling away, reaching for your shirt a few feet away as well. V grumbles under his breath as you dress carefully, and you smile as you glance over at his darkly tattooed form.

_I guess Griffon and Shadow came back at some point?_

You mentally shrug as you open the door, hip twinging slightly as you shuffle to the stairs with half-closed eyes. The steps themselves take a long moment as you take your time and grip the railing firmly. You turn toward the kitchen and spot Nero and Nico passed out on the two larger couches. The whiskey bottle on the desk between them is empty and you crack a wry smile as you wonder how long they’ll be out.

You snatch up three bottles of water from the undersupplied kitchen, sighing at the lack of actual dishware and the state of the faded blue cabinetry. On your way back to the stairs you sling your backpack on your shoulders with a grunt, the world spinning for a moment.

“…that you, Y/N?” Nico grumbles softly, not even opening her eyes. You murmur a yes and she smiles as she responds.

“How was Shakespeare last night? He get it up alright or do I need to go punch him?”

You snort at the image, both figures still unable to even open their eyes in your visualization.

“He was perfect, no worries… you guys have fun?” you reply with a light blush.

Nico lets out a throaty chuckle and making a scoffing gesture with one arm. Nero groans from his splayed out pose on his favorite couch, mumbling his beloved fiancé’s name in his sleep.

“Yeah, we had a good time. Griffon was a riot, he wouldn’t shut up about how much V thinks about ya and how annoying it gets. He said some weird shit too, didn’t make any sense… something about a sword and some guy called Victor? Vincent, maybe? I dunno…” she yawns, shifting her weight with a grunt as your eyes widen.

_Shit, V’s gonna be so mad! Hopefully Nero didn’t pay too much attention…_

“Haha, yeah, that Griffon with his crazy stories!” you force a laugh out uncomfortably and Nico finally opens one bleary eye to look at your concerned face suspiciously.

“There somethin’ I should know about, hon?” she asks you with a raised eyebrow.

You sigh. You want to tell her and Nero so much, they could be a _huge_ help as you try to make V feel human. Friendship and camaraderie could help too, right? Last night V had seemed to enjoy spending time with the whole group, clearly he felt _something_ for them.

_It’s not my secret to share._

“I… I can’t tell you. I’d tell you guys if I could but it’s not up to me,” you answer your friend and she nods.

“Right, I’ll go bug your boyfriend about it later, then,” she announces with a scheming smile. You put one of the water bottles into her hand and walk back upstairs to warn V.

_Wait, did she just call him my BOYFRIEND?!_

You stop in your tracks at the top of the stairs, thoughtful. The idea felt strange somehow, the term insufficient to describe your relationship with the poet. You try to think of a better word as you shuffle down the long hallway back to the guest room where V waited for you.

_Lover? No, that’s not right… Definitely not friends with benefits… Spouse is too official, though I could see myself calling him my husband someday._

The image of V in a fancy tux, waiting at the end of an aisle with a broad smile makes your heart jump as it thrums its approval of the idea. You beam happily, looking forward to the time when you could just enjoy being with him without all this nonsense hanging over your heads. True, it may have pulled you together and forced you two to bond faster than if you’d met in other circumstances, but it would be nice to go on an _actual date_ with him. See a movie. Grab dinner. Go stargazing. Spend _far_ too much money in a bookstore. _See an opera._

The perfect term for him sparks into existence as you envision going to the Red Grave Opera House with V, his cane a perfect complement to an old-fashioned suit.

_Partner. V is my partner, in all things now._

_I will not let him die._

You reach the door with determination and tenacity flowing in your mind and push the door open to see V lying in bed still, his mouth agape as he breathes deeply. His obsidian hair a dark mass on the white pillow, tattoos accentuating the planes of his body beautifully.

You set the water bottles on the nightstand, dropping the backpack on the foot of the bed as you shakily sit next to him, reaching out to brush his hair reverently. He moans, a small smile tugging at his lips as he blinks open his emerald eyes to look at you fondly. You stroke his hair a moment longer, enjoying the silky texture as you always do before you sit back to dig through your bag.  A moment later you hold out two small white tablets to him with a bottle of water and he downs them quickly, draining the bottle completely in his thirst.

You do the same and lie back down with him, content to let the worst of the hangover pass quietly.

________________ 

V

June 14th, 12:18 pm

**V, wake up.**

_…what?_

**Come on, Shakespeare, I hear something weird…**

V forces his heavy lids open with a sigh, knowing he won’t get any respite from the mouthy avian until he deals with whatever is going on.  He feels much better than he had, but his limbs still shake slightly as he stands. You aren’t in bed anymore and judging by the voices coming from downstairs something was _definitely_ going on. He hurriedly dresses, not bothering with his vest in his rush to make sure you were alright.

His hands tingle as he steps out the door, itching to let loose a cloud of black shards as his lengthy strides eat the distance to the stairs quickly. He takes the stairs two at a time, hearing your voice from nearby sounding distressed.

“Nero, I _can’t!_ Stop asking, my answer isn’t going to change!”

His blood boils at the words, his mind racing to guess at what Nero had done to get you in such a state.

_Did he say something rude? Did he touch her? I’ll tear him to pieces if he did…_

**V… I don’t think –**

_I don’t care._

V visualizes his mind as a steel box and closes the lid, leaving Griffon and his other summons outside in an attempt to block out their protests at the direction of his thoughts.

“Just STOP!”

V rounds the corner into the kitchen with a snarl on his lips, arm already stretched forward to let loose his fury as his heart thunders in his chest angrily, having no patience for whatever had made you so upset. The markings on his bare chest writhe as his adrenaline-dilated eyes take in the scene instantly.

You and Nero were sitting side by side at the counter, Nero leaning forward as if pressing a point and you with your arms crossed defensively over your chest as you arched as far back as you could without physically standing up. Nico is nowhere to be seen. As V growls both you and Nero turn to look at him, you with relief and Nero with confusion.

He drops his arm when he realizes you aren’t in any physical danger, his chest heaving as he reigns in his anger.

“What’s going on?” V murmurs as he stalks up to your side to wrap a comforting arm around your shoulders. You look up at him with something akin to fear in your beautiful eyes as you answer.

“Griffon… spilled a few beans last night to Nero and Nico. I was trying to tell him it’s not my secret to share,” you answer hesitantly.

The steel box of his mind flies open and he hurls his thoughts at Griffon.

_What did you tell them?_

**I… I don’t remember! Something about the sword? I might’ve mentioned Vergil?**

V pinches the bridge of his nose wearily, considering how best to proceed. He still doesn’t want to tell the whole story; the weight of it was supposed to be his alone to bear.

_It seems that choice has been taken from me._

“V, _please_ … just tell him. He might be able to help somehow,” you beg him, the pleading tone touching him somehow and forcing him to accept that it was time to come clean, time to unburden himself. For you.

“Where is Nico? I don’t want to tell the tale twice,” V states simply, and Nero’s eyes go wide as if he had been expecting the lean man to refuse to be honest. He exchanges a glance with you and stands.

“I’ll get her,” the young warrior declares as he stomps out of the room.

The moment Nero is out of earshot, you turn to V with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, I tried to tell them to leave it alone but Nero won’t let it go and Nico was planning on pestering you later to find out anyway, and I wanted you to –“

V cuts off your rambling with a quick peck on your soft lips.

“It’s alright, love. You did nothing wrong. Thank you for trying,” he mumbles with a soft smile, and you lean into his arm in relief. The two of you wait in silence for a long moment until Nero returns, Nico a half step behind him, grinning like she just found a golden shotgun. They settle in to listen and V clears his throat, launching into the tale once again.

________________ 

V

To the man’s credit, Nero had only punched him once. And not very hard, either, thankfully. V knows if the young man had been trying he could have easily broken his jaw. Still, the blood flowing from where his now sore teeth had cut his cheek has only just now stopped flowing. You hold an ice pack to the area as you finish his tale for him, including your own theories about how to prevent his death. You fall silent, and none of the four of them dare to speak for a long moment as the story sinks in.

Nico is the first to speak, of course.

“So, we’re gonna save him with the power of _friendship?_ Are you fucking _serious?”_ she asks you with an incredulous look.

“Well, not _exactly_ … but I suppose if you boil it down, that’s a fair assessment,” you answer slowly, cringing slightly. Nico stares long and hard into V’s emerald eyes before speaking again.

“If she didn’t love you, you’d be screwed. I don’t like that you didn’t tell us till now, either,” she informs the lean poet before looking back at you again with a smile.

“I’ll help however I can,” she concludes. V lets out a soft sigh of relief as Nico pats your shoulder before walking away.

_Off to work on some new contraption no doubt._

Both you and V look to Nero. He hasn’t said a word since he punched V in the face, sitting stoically as he listened to the rest of the story. His blue eyes are steely, lips pressed together firmly as he ponders all the new information. Finally the young warrior scratches the back of his neck in his signature gesture of discomfort, letting out a sigh as he gathers his thoughts.

“You _do_ realize how much of this plan is guesswork, right?” he asks you softly, and you nod in response.

Nero pauses again, his eyes flashing as he turns to face V.

“You ripped off my arm and left me in a pool of my own blood,” he accuses with a glare. V clenches his jaw, swallowing his irritation carefully before it gets out of control.

“I am _half_ of that man, yes,” he states calmly.

“And if this half-assed plan doesn’t work, _he’ll_ be back?”

“That is the assumption we’re operating under,” V articulates, not breaking eye contact with Nero in an attempt to show the rash young man his honesty.

“And if it works, Urizen dies and Vergil _can’t_ come back?” he questions.

“Again, we assume so,” V confirms earnestly.

Nero holds out a hand and V grasps it firmly with a shake.

“I’m in,” the white-haired warrior says with a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, Griffon and his big beak! I'm not totally satisfied with this chapter, but I think I simply struggle when ther's that much dialogue. 
> 
> As always, mucho gracias for reading, leaving kudos, and of course for your lovely words! I love you all!
> 
> Next Chapter - We actually get to the 15th OMGGGGG who's excited for way too many boss fights? Might not include all of them, so if you have a favorite you want to see let me know! Probably between 5 or 10 more chapters until this is done. 
> 
> (What the hell will I do with my time then o.O)


	22. Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everyone! Apologies for the little break, had a little bit of writer's block and spent some time away to get my head back on straight. I am now writing as I post, we've finally surpassed what my outline covered and what I had written while I waited for the AO3 email to set up my account! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

June 14th, 2:13 pm

You jump up off your seat and wrap your arms around Nero in gratitude.

_With everyone on the same page, this will be so much easier!_

“Thank you, Nero,” you emphatically state before pulling back. Your friend huffs as he starts to walk away, but he pauses a step later as one last question crosses his mind.

“Did Dante know?” he asks tightly.

V grimaces, his hands twitching slightly at the mention of his brother.

“He knew Urizen was Vergil. He did _not_ know I am too,” he replies. Nero nods once and leaves, and you and V are alone again.

“That went well,” you assure your partner, still holding the ice pack to his jaw where Nero had hit him. He lets out an amused huff, smirking. You pull the ice away to check the swelling; it’s not too bad.

_Nero must’ve pulled his punch at the last second._

“Thank you for telling them,” you continue softly, “I know it wasn’t part of your plan, but it might help you to have more people on your side.”

V gives you a small hum of acknowledgement, but you can tell from the furrow of his brows that he’s still uncomfortable with so many people knowing his secret. You lay a soft hand on his shoulder and squeeze the tattooed flesh comfortingly.

**_“Let rays of truth enlight his sleeping brain,”_** he recites simply, and you can’t help but smile fondly. You kiss his unhurt cheek softly.

“I should go find out what the plan is,” you murmur. Despite how exhausted you are from last night’s revelry and today’s revelations, you know the group needs to keep going, keep taking down roots.

_We’ve still only managed to break one… and it almost killed Nero. We **need** a better plan._

V takes the ice pack and holds it in place himself, letting you leave the kitchen to find Nero and Nico. They aren’t far – you find them in the next room, Nero strapping his sword back in place and Nico taking another moment to examine the weapons on the wall. As you walk over to her, she reverently pulls down a long blade.

“Y/N, you might wanna take this!” she exclaims as you reach her. She turns to face you, holding out the blade for your examination.

Even with your lack of knowledge you can tell this sword is exquisite. The dual-edged blade glints in the low light, the polished steel clearly well-maintained. You wrap your hands around the handle, a beautiful few inches of light wood that feels slightly warm as you carefully lift it out of Nico’s hands. A red tassel dangles from the pommel, the shade matching the round gem in the guard perfectly. You hold it close to your eyes, marveling at both its lightness and its balance as you look closer at the golden guard to see intricate carvings wrapping around the steel.

“It’s a Jian, from China. Normally you’re supposed to train for over a decade to use one of these, but considering the circumstances… Here, let me show you how you hold it, these are a little different,” Nico explains happily, and you slowly hand her the blade. She holds the hilt up and wraps her fingers around it, farther up toward the guard than you would’ve expected.

“I don’t know a _whole_ lot about these, but it’s a stabbing and slicing weapon. Oh, and it’s one-handed! When a pro uses one its super twirly and _gorgeous_ to watch! Something like this, but _way_ faster,” she rambles on, stepping into a clear area to do a few very slow rotations with the blade.

“Nico, come on. Let me show her some stuff, you got no idea what you’re doing,” Nero tells her nonchalantly as he walks over to join you two. Nico rolls her eyes but holds the sword out for the young warrior to take.

Nero gives the jian a few test swings, the blade making a loud snapping sound whenever he pauses his motion to point the blade at some imaginary foe. He smiles appreciatively as he twirls the well-balanced blade in a tight circle around his body. Satisfied, he waves you over.

“Alright, now I’m more used to bigger, heavier swords but you should start by practicing this motion,” he instructs you, falling into his teaching mindset as he makes a slow figure eight around his body, the blade flashing as it catches the light. You watch carefully, noting how his fingers loosen at certain points in the rotation to let the blade turn more easily. He holds it out to you with a smile, backing away a safe distance as you hold it the way Nico showed you.

It's much harder than he made it look. You struggle to twist your wrist and make the smooth, even strokes as Nero had. Your wrist starts to ache and you narrow your eyes in concentration, ignoring the sensation as you try to get used to the long blade spinning near your body. Nero calls out to you after a few minutes and you lower the weapon gratefully, your wrist strangely warm.

“Just one other thing I wanna show you; how to do a thrust. Try to use your forearm to support it, it’ll give you a bit more control as you move,” he informs you and shows you what he means with a long, slow thrust. The pommel rests just under his wrist at the end, his arm fully extended. He shows you the motion a few more times before handing the sword back to you and backing away to stand next to Nico.

You adjust your grip, making sure your fingers are wrapped around the right spot. You plant your feet and snap your arm forward, elbow flexing as your arm reaches as far as it can. You squeeze the handle slightly to make sure the pommel is secure against your wrist as the blade makes a loud snap.

_This is a bit easier; I don’t think I’ll cut myself if I do it wrong at least._

“Impressive, little fox,” V says calmly as he joins you from the kitchen, ice pack still held against his bruised jaw. You flush slightly at his praise, carefully lowering the sword. Nico holds out the sheath to you and you stow the blade inside, tying the strings around your belt and letting the sword hang from your left hip with a smile.

V turns to face Nero and Nico, a slightly uncomfortable look crossing his features as he addresses them.

“We should get back to the van and resume our advance,” he comments, and Nero nods grimly. You sigh, knowing you’ll have to use the crutches for the longer trek. Your hip is healing fast, but you still need to be careful not to overdo it too much. Any strain you can avoid will only help it heal faster.

The group breaks apart, each of you gathering your varied possessions. You grab another few water bottles and some snacks, raiding the first aid kit for good measure. Within twenty minutes, the four of you are once again gathered in the main room around Dante’s desk. Exiting the building, you blink your eyes at the harsh sunlight.

_Guess I have been living by candlelight for a while…_

You hitch up your backpack once more before settling your weight into the crutches reluctantly. You take a step toward where you remember the van last being parked, but Nico calls your name before you can take a second.

“I had to move the van, it’s this way now. Little bit closer, too,” she adds with a smile, and you shoot her a grateful look as you follow her lead in the opposite direction. Nero and V take the lead, staying a few dozen steps ahead of you and Nico and clearing out any demons before you proceed. It’s a slow process, but you’re glad to avoid participating in any fights for now.

A few blocks pass before you realize you recognize the street you stand on and freeze.

_I live here…_

“Y/N? What is it?” Nico asks you in concern.

“I… this is the street my apartment is on,” you inform her softly and she grins.

“We should stop by, get you some of your own clothes,” she comments back and you nod, smiling at the thought of _your own clothes!_

She signals the two men ahead with a sharp whistle, earning her a glare from Nero as he steps heavily back to see what’s going on.

“Y/N’s old place is nearby, we gotta stop by for some _necessities,”_ Nico informs him with a conspiratorial wink. Nero pauses, clearly about to ask what _exactly_ could be so important for you to have, but thinks better of it and instead just sighs in defeat.

“Is it at _least_ on this street?” he probes, looking at you for direction.

“Yeah, it’s on the next block,” you answer back easily. He hums in acknowledgement and turns around, trotting back to tell V what’s going on.

When you eventually reach your own apartment building, you’re shocked by the state it’s in. One side of the building is riddled with holes where the roots emerged, dust and hunks of stone on the sidewalk in front. The other side which holds your apartment is in decent shape, the damage seeming to have been contained to the exterior.

_I wonder how much of my stuff got damaged?_

Nero steps forward, pushing the double doors open and scanning the entrance for demons. He disappears inside for a few minutes, only his shouts and the sound of his blade slicing through flesh telling you of his battle. When he comes back outside to wave you, Nico and V forward, his jacket has a fresh splash of demon blood on it and he wears a pleased smile.

You lead the group to the door of your home, smiling sadly at the wooden plaque hanging from it welcoming friends inside.

_I never had any friends come over, but I liked seeing it all the same when I got home._

Nero shoots the doorknob, your keys having been lost who knows when. You push the door open and step inside, crutches clattering against the cheap wood floor of the entrance. Your friends follow you inside eagerly, seemingly excited to see your old home.

You had expected to feel a sense of homecoming, of safety and rightness when you saw the familiar bookshelves stuffed with textbooks and thick novels. The horrible orange couch you had picked up off the side of the road, the tiny folding table and chairs where you used to eat your meals. Your eyes take in the scene, memories rushing through you of all the time you spent here, and you feel… _empty._

_This isn’t home anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time…_

It feels like the space belongs to someone else, some stranger who looked like you in a time long past. The photos on the wall of you smiling as you accepted your CNA certificate, of you hugging your mother, of Lara at her 11th birthday party… they spark no fondness, no familiarity inside you. All you feel is a strange sort of detached recognition. As if, yes, that _was_ you, but it also somehow _wasn’t._

You can’t deny how much you’ve changed since the onset of the demon attack, but to see such a stark comparison of _before_ and _after_ is still startling.

_Have I truly changed so much?_

You consider the last few weeks. You had discovered demons exist, and so does hell in some form. You’d almost died _(more than once!)_ and learned how to fight back. You’d formed a strong friendship with two of the most unlikely characters imaginable and fallen head over heels in love with a third. You’d discovered he was dying, and desperately searched for a way to save him, but you wouldn’t know if it would work until the moment Urizen was slain.

_I guess I **have** changed that much…_

“Make yourselves comfortable, I’ll be as quick as I can,” you tell the waiting trio, ducking into your old bedroom to gather a few things.

The bedroom is somehow even more uncomfortable. Seeing the unmade bed, the sheets still tangled in evidence of some forgotten nightmare makes your jaw clench. You don’t want to be here anymore, in this place filled with remnants of a life you no longer recognize. You mentally shake yourself, clattering over to the closet to gather a few pairs of your favorite jeans, some comfortable tops and an assortment of underclothing. Almost as an afterthought, you pull down a nice blouse you reserved for special occasions and a skirt that showed off your calves.

You sigh and patter into the bathroom to add your toiletries to the pile of clothing on your bed, and you suddenly realize you may never return here again. Why would you? This space wasn’t _yours_ anymore, didn’t feel right to occupy. Once Urizen was gone, you imagined you’d stick with your new friends, going wherever they ended up.

_I don’t even care where we go, as long as we all make it through this in one piece, I’ll be happy._

You glance around the room, considering which other items you may want. You take a few photos from your corkboard by the bed, an old locket your father had given you before he’d died when you were barely eight years old. Your laptop, a tiny little thing you used mainly for music storage. Headphones. Your favorite book. A small stuffed animal. You almost leave the book of concert tickets behind but end up adding it to the now large pile on the bed.

And with that, everything that matters to you is in a chaotic mass of items amongst your tangled blankets.

_I guess I should grab the file of documents, too. And the cash in the shoebox in the closet. Might as well use my suitcase at this point._

Soon enough, you’re ready to go. A small carry-on size suitcase holding everything you need, all the excess of your old life stripped away. It feels good to leave so much behind, _cleansing_ to realize how much of it simply doesn’t matter to you anymore. The things that used to mean so much now proven to be useless.

_I feel… **free.**_

You smile wryly to yourself as you leave the bedroom, sword clacking against the crutches as you rejoin your friends in the living room. Nico lounges on the couch, her legs propped up on your small coffee table. Nero sits beside her, arms crossed over his chest and leaning forward to make room for his sword on his back. V stands in front of your bookcase, of course, scanning the titles with interest. They all look at you as you noisily approach.

“All set?” Nero asks.

You pause for a moment, glancing around the room just in case. You hastily take the photos off the wall, one more book joining the first in the small bag. You glance at the wall phone, wondering if Nico might be able to make it work in the van. You pack it up, just in case.

“Got everything you need? We can always come back for more,” Nico asks with a kind smile.

“I have everything that matters. I won’t need to come back again,” you answer quietly.

Nero stands, his sword falling back into place once it has room. V takes a small book from your shelf and joins you, taking the bag from your hands so you can use the crutches properly with a gentle smirk. You lean over and plant a quick kiss on his exposed shoulder and his smirk deepens. His free hand swats your ass playfully as you pass him, joining Nico and Nero in the hallway. V turns to close the door as you leave.

“Leave it open. Someone else might need something,” you state firmly. He gives you a small nod and does as you ask. You take comfort in the idea of some random stranger putting the remains of your discarded life to good use as you and your friends leave it behind, stepping ever closer to whatever awaits you in your path to defeating Urizen.

The van is, as Nico promised, not much farther. Your quartet reaches it within half an hour of leaving your apartment, all clambering aboard with relieved expressions to find it just as Nico had left it. V sets your bag on the couch as he goes to lean against the stove with a frown. The rest of you soon settle into seats and the mood instantly shifts to one of quiet focus.

“Looks like the nearest root is close to the old cathedral about a mile from here,” you begin thoughtfully.

“V and I should go alone. The more time you have to heal, Y/N, the better off we’ll be in the end,” Nero comments, and you instantly want to protest but V speaks before you have a chance.

“Perhaps Nico could bring her once the demon is taken care of?” he chimes in, and you almost want to smack him for daring to suggest leaving you behind.

_Especially considering what the Glutton did to Nero! I mean, not that I could’ve done anything, but still!_

“We’ll find a way through,” Nico adds.

“Wait, wait, wait… you guys can’t be serious! What if one of you gets hurt? What if you need me?” you manage to protest finally. Nero and V exchange a look, and suddenly you realize they had discussed this already, probably while you were packing at your apartment.

“Look, if one of us _does_ get hurt, do you _really_ think you could safely reach us while there’s still an ongoing battle? This is the safest option we have,” Nero explains carefully.

_I can’t fault that logic, damnit!_

**_“Here I stayed to rest and then leaped into the void,”_** V adds, and you know you have no choice but to agree. You clench your jaw in frustration, hating the idea of not being there, not being able to help.

“If one of you gets killed, I’ll never forgive you,” you huff, crossing your arms.

“I’ll keep an eye on your boyfriend, don’t worry Y/N!” Nero teases you with a sly grin. He’s rewarded with a glare from V’s slightly blushing face as you just shake your head. Nero chuckles and stands, heavy steps bringing him to the door in a few strides.

“I’m gonna go make sure we’re alone, it’ll be dark soon so we might as well stay here tonight,” he explains as he leaves. Nico takes a look at you and V and decides she should be elsewhere, murmuring something about taking a smoke break as she quickly follows Nero outside. V quietly joins you on the couch, a thoughtful look on his handsome features.

The pair of you sit in awkward silence for a long moment before he speaks at last.

“It doesn’t seem like the right word, does it? _Boyfriend…_ ” he mutters, glancing at you from behind his curtain of obsidian hair. You can’t help but smirk at the way he says the word, like it’s an insult.

“No, it doesn’t seem sufficient. Nico said something similar to me earlier today,” you respond ruefully, wondering if she and Nero had planned this in advance.

V leans back, his long legs stretching out fully as he hums in agreement.

“What word _would_ you deem suitable, then?” he asks you in a low tone.

_I guess some things are the same no matter how you meet someone. It’s always awkward when you have to label it._

“The best I could come up with was ‘partner,’” you inform him with a low blush. He chuckles deep in his throat and pulls you against his chest. You can hear his heart beating a little fast as he kisses the top of your head.

“Partner… _yes_. That’s _perfect_ , my love,” he murmurs into your hair, taking a long sniff. You can’t help the toothy grin that stretches across your face at the approving tone he uses. You tilt your head to face him, leaning forward to press your lips against his happily. You feel his lips twist into a smirk before he opens to you, his arms wrapping around you as you run one hand up his chest. You embrace for a long moment, tongues dancing the now-familiar waltz across your joined lips. You sigh against him as you hear the door creak open and you pull away reluctantly.

“Don’t mind me, carry on! I’m heading to bed, pretend I ain’t here!” Nico teases playfully, jokingly covering her eyes as she walks by and ascends the hidden ladder to her bed. You’re about to kiss V again when the door opens _again,_ Nero’s familiar stomp signaling his return.

“Thought I’d sleep in the passenger seat, we can get an extra early start if we don’t have to clean up a tent or anything,” he announces, heading to the front of the van. You roll your eyes at V and he smirks adorably before the pair of you reposition to lie on the couch in a close embrace. He nuzzles the back of your neck and you kiss his tattooed forearm where it crosses from under your head. Nero’s snores fill the air as you somehow manage to fall asleep, smile still painted on your lips.

________________

June 15th, 3:49 am

You don’t know where you are. You can barely see, only the first few feet ahead discernible in the thick mist that shrouds you in silence and damp cold.

“Hello? V? Nero, Nico, anyone there?” you cry out, but only your own voice echoes back in answer.

You shuffle forward, arms outstretched to feel any obstacles. You slowly progress for what feels like miles, the environment around you unchanging as your fear starts to climb, heart pounding faster as time drags on.

Finally, your hands touch something solid. After your initial flinch at the sudden contact, you touch it again. The texture is as familiar as your own reflection – leather, supple yet strong. You look closer at the fabric at your fingertips to see the color. It’s blue, somehow familiar…

Suddenly the mist vanishes, letting you see what you’re touching, and you scream.

It’s Nero.

His blue eyes stare upward, blank and unseeing in death. Blood covers his chest from a gaping wound, and you retch as you see inside his chest cavity, through his shattered ribs to see what’s left of his heart. Your hands pull away and you turn away from his corpse, the pain in your heart seeming to deepen as a growing suspicion sprouts in your mind at what you’ll see, tears already dripping from your chin.

You desperately wish you could look away as you see Nico and V lying nearby, limbs either missing entirely or twisted to impossible angles. Both of their faces are frozen in an expression of unfiltered rage. Nico’s body is impaled on a massive spike of metal, evidence that she was thrown from the driver’s seat of her van. Glass shards lie around her, coated in her blood.

_Please… **please** don’t make me look…_

But you do. Your eyes travel without your permission to gaze at your beloved V’s still form on the ground before you.

His hair, _his beautiful obsidian hair_ , is matted with blood. Your eyes are unable to move as you absorb the full gravity of what killed him; a chunk of his head is _gone,_ exposing brain tissue to the open air. Chucks of grey and white litter the area nearby, blood a crimson backdrop only serving to highlight the contrast. You fall to your hands and knees as you crawl to him.

Your sobs wrack his body into a sickening lurch as you reach him, hands seizing the leather of his vest and pulling yourself closer. You look down at his face, shaking as you somehow hear his voice as his lips move in a horrible caricature of life.

_“Little fox… it’s alright, come on…”_

You drop your head onto his chest and wail, pounding your fists in a useless effort to _bring him back_ , make him _stand up_ and not be dead. Hands wrap around your wrists and you look up to see V, head whole and unblemished by blood, a look of deep concern marring his face.

“Y/N, its alright! Wake up!” he cries as your eyes take in what’s behind him – the familiar backdrop of Nico’s van. You bury your face in his chest as everything slams into place.

_Just a nightmare. He’s alive, they’re all alive!_

You feel hands on your back, even as V’s remain on your wrists and his long fingers stroke your palms comfortingly. You glance behind you and there’s Nero and Nico, both bleary eyed but _alive,_ each with a single hand on your back.

It takes you a long moment to calm down, the four of you locked in a tableau as your breathing returns to normal at last.

“I’m sorry… I woke you all up, I’m sorry I –“ you start to gasp out, but three sets of lips all make varying sounds of frustration and you fall silent as V speaks.

“Don’t even start, little fox. You have nothing to apologize for,” he states clearly.

“Yeah, if anything you gave us an early start! We’ll be cleaning up Qlipoth roots in no time!” Nero adds with a tired smile. Nico just gives you a look, daring you to disagree with the two men. You sigh and give them a watery smile, accepting their kindness as best you can. Another few minutes pass in silence as you enjoy your friends' presence.

**_“The Tree still grows over the void, enrooting itself all around, from his woven darkness above,”_** V eventually recites with a frown and your heart jumps at the implications.

_I know they have to go, but…_

_No, this is bigger than me. I have to make them go._

You school your features into a small smile and wipe your tears. You lean back, away from V as you speak.

“I’m alright now. You guys should get started, there’s no time to waste,” you tell the two men. Nero frowns but seems to accept your words, turning back to where he left his sword and jacket to prepare himself. V gazes into your eyes for a long moment and you force yourself to hide the last aftershocks of your nightmare. He seems convinced, leaning forward to press a soft kiss on your forehead as he stands.

Nico alone stays with you, taking V’s perch moments after he steps away. Your mask slips as she looks deep into your eyes but she doesn’t say a word, her sad smile saying everything you need to know.

_She knows I’m faking, but she understands why._

_Thank you, Nico…_

Nero comes back to give you a quick hug before he steps outside, his arms a comforting warmth for an instant before he awkwardly stomps outside, scratching the back of his neck. V follows soon after, giving you a tender embrace and a gentle kiss before he pulls away, his emerald gaze glancing back at you once more as he steps out the door.

You wait another few minutes to make sure the men are out of hearing distance before you let your mask crack and fall away, revealing your pain to Nico as she holds you in a close hug, shushing you quietly as she rubs your back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG WE'RE OFFICIALLY IN GAME-COVERED TIME NOW!!! I can hardly believe it! In advance, I will say I am breaking canon in regards to the dialogue now, as some of the in game dialogue doesn't make any sense in conjunction with this story. I'm gonna keep as much as I can :D
> 
> That sword scene took FOREVER to write! I did a stupid amount of research. If you're curious, here's the main stuff I used -  
> https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1gVu0KXXXXXbzXFXXq6xXFXXXr/41-Inch-Martial-Art-Chinese-Sword-Stainless-Steel-Flexible-Blade-Kungfu-Swords-For-Practice-TaiJi-Jian.jpg_640x640.jpg  
> (That's the sword Reader has now)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AUhPZaqQniU&t=2s  
> (A training video I used a little of)
> 
> https://www.quora.com/How-much-should-a-real-Jian-sword-weigh  
> (Reference for some random details I can't remember now)
> 
> Today's soundtrack is most fitting for the part in Reader's old apartment.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYf-EsadU7I
> 
> As always, domo arigato for reading, leaving kudos, and most of all a HUGE thank you to all my wonderful commenters! You guys are legit the best and I love every single one of you in a totally non-creepy way!
> 
> Next Chapter - At least one boss fight!!!


	23. Prelude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back for another installment of whatever the heck you want to call this! This chapter is the longest to date. It was getting a little out of hand so I decided to break a little earlier than I had initially planned. 
> 
> Special shout out to ghostofarose, SpiritChilde, and Anozu. You guys are amazing and I can't thank you enough for your consistent feedback and interest. Your comments are always a special treat to read, and I thank you for your kind words.
> 
> With that, sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride!

June 15th, 6:12 am

The last few hours since V and Nero’s departure had felt like a millennia. Every second passing was another second you pictured another vision of V and Nero dying at the hands of some formless monster. Each heartbeat was another beat during which their hearts may have already stopped. Each breath you took was another gasp of air that you prayed they inhaled too, wherever they were and whatever they faced. You had long since run out of tears, only your shaking body and twisted expression showing the turmoil in your mind.

You sit with Nico in silence, her arm still draped over your shoulders as she chews on her bottom lip nervously. You barely notice her presence as you imagine Nero falling off a twelve story building, the same crunch you heard when his spine broke echoing brutally as he hits the ground and breaks every bone in his body.

Nico’s gentle hand stroking your hair only triggers an image of V getting his hair, _his wonderful hair,_ ripped out harshly by a ghostly hand, bits of his scalp still clinging to the roots in bloody chunks of flesh. The formless hand descends again, claws sprouting from its fingers and slicing across V’s bleeding scalp deep enough to reveal the grey mass hidden within and you swallow harshly to keep yourself from vomiting, your body curling inards in preparation despite your best efforts.

“Ah, fuck this! Hold on, honey, I’ll get us there as quick as I can!” Nico exclaims suddenly, her body rising away from you to dash to the driver’s seat. You blink slowly as she starts the engine, your awareness of reality foggy. She floors the accelerator and your body is shoved against the leather of the couch as the force hits you.

_Is it time to go now…? We’re going to find them?_

You brace your feet on the rug and force yourself to stand, keeping your knees bent in case Nico has to take a turn. This proves to be wise as she does exactly that, throwing your body sideways as you barely manage to keep yourself upright.

“Get your ass up here, Y/N! It’s gonna be a bumpy ride!” Nico shouts from her seat with a crazed laugh.

An image of V’s face glazed over in death spurs you to move, a few desperate steps bringing you within arms reach of the passenger seat just in time to grab onto the headrest as Nico turns again, two wheels leaving the ground entirely as she howls around a corner. The tires hit the ground again in a loud screech and you pull yourself into the seat beside her, hurriedly clicking your seatbelt into place. She winks at you as the van slams into a parked vehicle and just keeps barreling forward as if nothing happened.

Not for the first time, you find yourself wondering where on Earth Nico had learned to drive.

You look out the windshield, hoping to catch a glimpse of Nero or V somewhere in view to no avail. All that greets your hungry gaze is more of the same abandoned cars and rubble you’ve seen enough to last a lifetime now. You’re about to lean back when a low rumble sounds from above, and as you watch the Qlipoth root that was the target of the attack turns grey and shatters, massive hunks of the stony structure falling across the area in a wide spread. Nico cheers and you can’t help but join her even as your stomach lurches, wondering what state the two men are in.

With a final screech of rubber, your prayers are answered as V and Nero come into view; panting, dusty, covered in blood but _alive and standing!_ Griffon flies overhead and Shadow prowls around the lean poet’s feet as the van comes to a shuddering halt not ten feet from where the two men stand watching. Your fingers leap to the catch of your seatbelt in such a rapid movement they slide right off again from the sweat covering your palms. You growl in frustration, wiping your palms on your pants with gritted teeth.

“I know, I know, I’m late! Shut it!” Nico jokes out the window at the two men. “The roads were all clogged!”

You don’t hear whatever she says next as you mercifully manage to unbuckle yourself and almost fall out of the seat in your rush to reach V. A portion of your mind idly watches V flick a piece of whatever demon he and Nero had defeated into Nico’s grasp as you sprint at him, only able to breathe again once you finally wrap your arms around his slim frame. He lets out a low grunt at the impact, but his free arm finds its way around you quickly enough. You inhale his scent joyfully as Nero scolds Nico somewhere in the distance.

“Did you just _sniff_ that? Do you have _any_ idea where that’s been?”

“Up your butt?”

“Tch. Focus on the mission!”

All sound seems to fade as you feel V’s chest rumbling beneath in laughter, the boisterous sound telling you everything you desperately needed to know about how he was after the battle. Relief floods you, a powerful flood of energy seeping away through your toes into the ground as the tension leaves your body at last.

_I have to get strong enough, so he never has to leave me behind again._

**_“One rotten sheep spoils the whole flock,”_** V quips with an adorable smirk, and you slowly begin to giggle as his meaning becomes clear and the stress vacates your senses. His emerald eyes sparkle in amusement as your laughter erupts from you, his own mixing in once more to your delight.

It feels stunningly perfect to laugh, to take a moment to enjoy V’s unique sense of humor in the chaos surrounding you. You tighten your arms around him once more before you let him go, ready to join Nero and Nico in the van. You take V’s hand and enter the van to formulate the next attack, feeling infinitely better about your prospects now that the two men had managed to take down a root without sustaining any injuries. Griffon follows you, settling in on top of the old-fashioned jukebox across from the couch.

Inside, Nico is already hard at work, cursing as she tries to figure out a way to make use of the demonic horn V had tossed her way. You sit down in your usual spot on the as V approaches Nero up front where the young warrior sits with his feet on the dash.

Now that the group is safely reunited, you vaguely remember your gift for Nico and you bring the phone to her with a smile. She glances up at you in confusion before her gaze drops to your hands and grins widely.

“Awesome! Is that for me? Lemme take a look at it, should be able to get it working if I can just…” she trails off as you place the landline in her hands, her mind already hard at work to figure out how to get the phone hooked up to the van. You turn back to the two men in the front, addressing them both equally as you sit back down on the couch.

“Just so you know, I’m not staying behind again,” you pipe up, crossing your arms stubbornly.

Staying behind with Nico had been a special kind of torture, forcing all the familiar feelings of uselessness, powerlessness, self-doubt and panic to wrap you in their embrace like an old friend. Even though it made logical sense for you to remain with Nico, you know it would tear you apart until you had nothing left, leaving you in a near-constant state of high caliber panic and anxiety.

_I don’t want to watch them dying in my head anymore. I can’t._

Instantly as you think of them, all the different visions of V and Nero’s deaths flood your mind again and you stop breathing, heart locked in a terrible vice and stomach roiling harshly as you struggle to stay in the moment, to focus on the now. You start counting in your head, the linear progression of numbers a soothing balm of logical thinking to ease your emotional state.

“In that case, I think we should split into two groups,” V informs the group after your pronouncement.

“And cover more ground. Good idea,” Nero replies, spinning back around to head Nico’s way but she’s already stepping out from behind the counter with a new arm held out proudly. It’s a different design, red and black and much bulkier than the Bladestorm Nero has been using so much.

“Behold, my genius! Ah, ah, cash first,” Nico insists as Nero reaches out to take the new device from her, Griffon watching in amusement behind him. You see V sit on one of the small seats by the table out of the corner of your eye, smirking as he watches the pair argue.

“All the materials I collected for your little pet projects don’t count for anything?” the young warrior complains with a gesture at her work station, but she barely glances at it before she responds.

“My brilliant, badass work is worth every dime, and you know it,” she tells him as she pulls out a cigarette and crosses by Nero, forcing him to step back to make enough room for her to pass.

“Yeah, well your quality control sucks _ass_ , and _you_ know _that_ ,” Nero snaps back with a gesture of his hand. V glances at you with a twinkle of mirth in his emerald gaze, the two of you enjoying the show in silence.

“Or maybe don’t let the demons smack you around so much?” Nico suggests with a sharp flick of her arm. Nero clenches his jaw and flushes just a tiny bit as he turns away from her, stepping over to stand near the work bench.

“Whatever,” he mutters as he leans against the wall near you.

Nico holds up the device once more, smiling proudly as she watches the way it reflects the light.

“I am _truly_ gifted. It’s a work of art,” she comments reverently, holding the arm up near where Griffon perches on the jukebox. The mouthy bird chuckles for a moment in amusement before his gravely voice rings out from his triple-forked beak.

“So you’re an artist now, huh?” he asks Nico mockingly.

She turns to face him so quickly he visibly jumps back in alarm, wings opening slightly to keep his balance as he lets out a startled squawk. You can picture the glare Nico sends the bird as she faces away from you, her voice a threatening tone.

“Yes I am. Got any questions, little chicken?”

Nico turns to face V, a small smirk gracing his lips as she ignores Griffon to address him.

“My grandmother was called the .45 caliber virtuoso. Legendary gunsmith,” she tells the lean poet, mechanical arm in one hand and unlit cigarette in the other. “I hope to be like her someday. An artist, and a lethal artisan.”

Her gaze shifts back to the arm in her grasp with a proud smile as she speaks. “Everything I create is a work of art, whether it’s a gun…”

She pauses and steps closer to Griffon again. “Or a steel pot, to cook birds in!”

Nico spins around and plops down on the couch next to you, one hand reaching for a lighter as she concludes, “Any more questions? Huh, lil’ chickee?”

Griffon ruffles his feathers, trying his best to not show any fear, but you can tell the idea of being cooked disturbs thoroughly. V chuckles lightly as he stands, waving one arm through the air as Nico exhales a large cloud of smoke.

“We’ll take our leave now,” he says with a glance at you. You quickly stand and make sure you have everything you’ll need as Nero steps forward, slinging his massive blade across his back from where it rests beside the jukebox. V catches his eye for a moment as he opens the door to leave.

“And if we don’t see you along the way, we’ll see you at the bottom of the Qlipoth,” he murmurs as he steps out of the van. You give Nico a quick hug, and Nero a solid fist bump before you follow V outside, overjoyed to be accompanying him.

The lean poet seems stronger, more energetic than usual. His cane held loosely in his left hand, looking more like a stage prop that a necessary medical device as he strides away from the van confidently, his body almost swaggering as you follow behind him. Griffon flaps overhead, keeping his strange eyes peeled for any sign of trouble as you progress.

The sound of your new sword striking the metal crutches sets an easy rhythm for your steps, your faithful baseball bat slung over your shoulders on top of your backpack. It’s now been almost ten days since your hip injury, the pain fading a little bit more each day. You haven’t had to take any ibuprofen for a few days, your high pain tolerance serving you well.

_By this point, the crutches are more of a formality. I don’t really need them to walk, but also shouldn’t walk unaided as much as I’m sure we’ll need to. I can drop them to fight easily enough._

Griffon’s voice shakes you from your thoughts as you follow V into a small tunnel, some kind of passage below the street that crosses over the top of the structure. Griffon follows soon after, massive wings disturbing the dirt beneath your feet with each flap.

“So, V you think this kid can defeat Urizen?”

_Does he mean Nero?_

You can hear the smirk on the poet’s lips as he replies softly, “One can only hope.”

Suddenly the rear of the tunnel collapses, chunks of rock crashing down to rest a few yards away from where you stand. You cough as the dust rises, choking you slightly.

“But for now, we have a more _pressing_ engagement,” V concludes. He checks to make sure you’re alright and strides forward again, his focus clear. You follow a few steps behind, taking a sip of water from one of the bottles to help clear your throat of dust particles. You’ve barely reached the next turn in the road when you spot some Empusa. V quickly flicks his wrist and Shadow materializes with a low roar.

You drop your crutches, standing strong on your own two feet as you draw the sword, wrapping your right hand up close to the guard loosely as Griffon mocks Shadow overhead.

“Oooooh, genius says be careful! No shit, Shirley. Ain’t that right, V? I mean, you ARE fragile at the moment, wouldn’t take much to wipe you out in a sticky situation!”

V smirks, a sparkle of amusement lighting his eyes as he pulls out his book, letting it fall open to any page and reading the first line he sees aloud.

 ** _“He who desires but act not, breeds pestilence._** So it is written,” he intones, snapping he book closed again and stowing it back within his vest as Griffon replies with a sigh.

“Okay Shakespeare. Just remember this: you and I like to exist. So, get rid of those demons quick, cause killing ‘em ain’t my shtick! I got your back, cause dying is whack!”

Shadow lets out another roar as you step forward, twirling your blade in front of you to loosen your wrist. The nearest Empusa moves toward you and you shoot V a glare to warn him not to interfere. He smirks and redirects his attention to the other two Empusa, Griffon and Shadow already on the offensive.

Your foe charges at you suddenly and you step to the side quickly, lowering your blade across its back as it crosses by you. The sharp edge sinks deep into the creature, leaving a satisfying slice on its back as it turns to face you again. You wait until it charges again before snapping your sword forward, making sure to brace the pommel on your inner wrist as Nero had shown you as you thrust the tip of the blade deep into the Empusa’s hideous face. You grin maniacally as it pokes all the way through its head.

As the tell-tale ash rises from its corpse, you turn to see V watching you with a pleased twist marking his mirth. When you step closer he actually starts _laughing._

“What’s so funny, my poet?” you ask him curiously. He chuckles once more before resting an arm over your shoulders with an adorable smirk.

“Do you remember when you saw your first Empusa? At the store when we needed supplies?” he inquires.

 _How could I forget? I killed the damn thing with a frying pan._ You nod slowly and V smiles as Shadow pads up to you for some scratches. You happily oblige her as he explains his mirth.

“I was remembering how you looked when I found you, that pan still in both hands. You had the exact same look on your face just now as you did that day, the same lovely bloodthirsty smile. The comparison of circumstances amused me, my little warrior fox,” he informs you with a wide smile. You wipe your blade on your sleeve carefully and sheathe it before leaning over and giving V a playful swat on the behind. He raises an eyebrow at you and reaches out to pull you against him for a kiss that stops time.

_I’ll never get tired of kissing him…_

You moan lightly as Shadow huffs and pads away. You hear Griffon making retching noises somewhere nearby but ignore it to focus on the wonderful sensation of V’s full lips caressing yours, his tongue dipping in and out of your mouth skillfully as he teases you to the point of gasping. You squeak suddenly when V’s steady hand strikes your ass in a firm spank, his fingers grasping your toned flesh and caressing it tenderly to soothe the sting away. He growls into your mouth as he pulls back and you surge with confidence at the flush on his cheeks and the glazed look of his emerald eyes.

 ** _“Between two moments bliss is ripe,”_** he recites in a purr that leaves your knees weak. Much to your disappointment, he releases you from his embrace with a sigh.

“We must keep moving,” he reminds you sadly and you nod in agreement. You hastily situate yourself on your accursed crutches and follow V as he strides forward, Griffon flapping above and Shadow prowling nearby.

A short time later, you enter a courtyard as you exit a building, shipping containers forming a blockade ahead. You look back to V questioningly to see him staring at a series of dark shapes above. They resemble bats, but they’re far larger than any you’ve ever heard of. You glace at V again as Shadow roars a challenge to them.

“Hellbats. They can spit fire, so keep your eyes up,” he instructs you with a grimace.

You sigh heavily and drop your crutches with a clatter, drawing your sword with a satisfying sound of metal sliding against its sheath. You hold it at waist height and wait, knowing one of these foes will eventually come to you. Even as you stay motionless, V bursts into action. Griffon swoops forward, raking one of the bats with his harsh talons. Shadow shifts into her spinning blade form, rising off the ground to slash deep into another bat nearby.

You see one coming your way and raise your blade a bit higher, stepping forward to slice clean through the creature as it starts to gather flames in its mouth. Its ash blows away in the slight breeze as you glance at V again.

He’s in the middle of a flying leap, bringing his cane down to bear against a Hellbat with a sharp thrust of his lean arms.

_He’s fine, I don’t need to worry about him._

The last bat not already fighting one of you swoops close to you, a stream of fire falling from its gaping maw as it passes. You leap aside with a gasp, your hip twinging slightly as you land. Even so, you manage to reach out with your jian and make a clumsy cut into the demon’s wing. It circles haphazardly for a moment before it’s forced to the ground and you quickly finish it off with a single swing of your blade.

You look around for the next combatant only to find there are none left. You shoot an exhilarated smile at V as your chest heaves in exertion. You clean your blade and sheathe it again carefully, following V as he strides to the corner of the courtyard toward a stairwell leading down. A partially destroyed brick wall stands ahead, and V carefully climbs over it with a gesture for you to wait there. A moment later, you hear Griffon’s raucous cries as he attacks something and you blink in amusement as a portion of the nearby root crumbles away, giving V a way forward around the corner out of your sight. He returns a moment later with a smile as he jumps off the ledge with a laugh. You gasp and look over the edge to see Griffon grasping V’s arm and slowly lowering him the last few feet.

_Now you’re just showing off…_

You roll your eyes but take hold when Griffon returns for you, the ladder a bit much with how full your hands are. Once on the ground, you have to step carefully around the twisting train tracks lining the area. More shipping containers lie strewn about, some stacked carefully but others having clearly moved when the Qlipoth struck. You pause your observations as red webbing appears and a swarm of Empusa come crawling out of various nooks and crannies, a few popping in through gray portals.

V smirks at you and winks before raising his left hand high and snapping, the obsidian hue of his hair swirling away to reveal the snowy tone underneath. A fireball descends from on high, the herald of Nightmare’s arrival striking perfectly between several of the Empusa. V darts forward and deals the final blow to several in rapid succession as Nightmare bubbles into existence.

You stay far back and watch as V stalks around the edges of the tracks, his emerald eyes always seeking the next death blow as Nightmare shoots laser after laser into the demons, Griffon cackling as he spits lightning and Shadow roaring as she swipes her claws angrily.

_Sometimes I forget how powerful he actually is… this is like an orchestra._

As if V heard your thoughts, he turns to you with a grin and extends his cane out in an approximation of a conductor, loudly humming a few bars of _Flight of the Valkyries._ As his hand punches the air in emphasis, you can’t help but giggle.

_He seems so happy today._

He winks at you once again before leaping back into the chaotic battle to finish off the last few Empusa with a dark chuckle, white hair flowing as he moves gracefully about. As Nightmare bubbles away with the last demon, his hair regains its dark tone and he steps back over to join you.

“You are so ridiculous sometimes, you know that?” you inform him with an amused smirk. He shrugs and leans in for a quick peck, a soft hum of contentment thrumming in his throat.

“I thought I’d give you a taste of the Opera you wanted, little fox,” he murmurs as he steps back, his words warming you in his affection.

“Ah, well… it was _quite_ the spectacle!” you tease him as the two of you set off once more, heading toward a distorted bridge covered in small Qlipoth roots. V has to help you step over a few of the larger ones. Roughly halfway across, a bulging red mass extends from one of the tendrils, pulsating angrily in a mimicry of a heartbeat. The roots here are too large for you to traverse, and V sighs as he ponders his options.

“This bridge seems unstable… If I were to clear that root, it may collapse,” he informs you seriously.

“So… what do we do?” you ask in response.

He gazes off into the distance, his eyes sweeping across the myriad of sunken buildings as he thinks. Suddenly he grins, chuckling as he points.

“Look, I can see Nero,” he shows you and sure enough, the white-haired warrior is off in the distance, finding his own way across the area. As you watch, something shoots from his new arm and he latches on to a strange orb floating between two buildings, tugging himself forward to land on the next rooftop from the momentum. You hear a faint whoop as he trots forward to meet a few demons in battle, his sword gleaming with flames.

You shake your head and turn back to your own situation, gears turning in your mind to find a way across, but you can’t think of anything useful. V follows your gaze and clenches his jaw irritably as he steps closer to the red pustules. You follow him easily enough on the smooth surface; the area is still lacking the rubble you’ve grown so accustomed to.

“I don’t see any other options, I’ll have to risk it,” V murmurs and you nod, bracing yourself in case the bridge fails. He flicks his wrist out and Shadow appears, her claws already slashing forward to attack. It only takes a few strikes for the red orbs to burst, showering V in blood. The root turns gray and the bridge beneath your feet rumbles as it begins to fall away. V grunts, bracing his cane against the ground to keep himself from hitting the ground. His fearful eyes meet yours as he rushes forward, only a step ahead of you as you scramble behind him. He reaches out both arms, one to pull you to him and the other extended out as he leaps into free space, the bridge collapsing into the water below with a great crash.

Your heart stops as his arm barely manages to reach you, tugging you against him harshly as you both begin to fall together. A swarm of black shards escapes V’s outstretched arm and Griffon materializes above you. His feet latch onto V’s still raised arm and you can feel the jerk as the momentum shifts. Griffon struggles, flapping as hard as he can but unable to rise.

_Oh shit, we are so dead!_

“V, need a little help here!” the bird shouts in alarm.

“My hands are quite occupied, my friend,” the lean poet answers in a tight tone. The small coil of fear in your belly grows into a full-blown snake as you realize you might still fall and your grip on V tightens harshly in your fear. He looks down at you and clenches his jaw, something in his eyes shifting as he comes to the same conclusion. He growls deep in his throat and suddenly Griffon shoots higher, bringing you above the lip of the edge of what remains of the other side of the bridge with a triumphant howl. Griffon flaps a few more times, bringing you farther over the edge as V swings his body and lets go, rolling onto himself to take the worst of the impact himself.

V grunts heavily as his shoulder strikes the pavement, you landing on his chest as he’d planned. The two of you pause a moment to catch your breath after the near miss. He chuckles against you as his arms relax, letting you sit up to take a look at his shoulder. He dutifully holds still as you probe the joint, checking for any damage.

“I think you’re good, except for the bruise you’re bound to get,” you inform him after you conclude your brief exam. He smiles and sits up with a sigh, offering you a hand up once he stands again. It’s only as you rise that you realize you dropped one of your crutches.

“Damnit, I lost a crutch!” you exclaim in frustration, glancing around on the off chance it landed on this side. V looks too, but the area is devoid of the strange contraption. You sigh but resolve yourself to make do with just the one.

_I didn’t really need them that much anymore, but still…_

“Shall we see if there’s something you could use instead?” V asks thoughtfully, but you shake your head.

“It should be fine. Let’s keep going,” you insist with a grim smile. He nods and steps forward toward what the building at the end of the tracks. Your eyes widen as you approach, seeing the shipping containers precariously balanced near another thick root. V walks over to a hideous demonic spout, green ooze leaking from its orifice in a slow, viscous stream. He hums happily as he reaches inside the gap and pulls out what looks like a chunk of brain tissue with red strings coming off it and stuffs it in his pocket. The sight reminds you of your nightmare and you shiver uncomfortably.

“Uh, what’s that for?” you ask quietly.

“It’s a Niddhog hatchling. They can be useful occasionally,” he replies mysteriously as the spout-like structure dissolves. You push your disgust away as you follow him into the building through a door on the side, passing several orange construction dividers along the way. You descend a set of stairs into a storage area, crossing it quickly and without interruption.

The street below is strangely clear, the unusual void of debris and vehicles making you tense uneasily. Your instincts are proven correct as you and V enter a side lot, red webbing blocking your escape as two Empusa climb out of portals, a third green one flying overhead. You draw your sword and drop your remaining crutch, dropping into a low crouch. V flicks his cane to the side and Shadow’s form appears in a cloud of black shards, Griffon not far behind as V’s arms lighten considerably. The Empusa don’t stand a chance, dropping quickly to your group.

But the fight isn’t over – a pair of Caina and a pair of Antenora wriggle through their own portals, a slightly more difficult challenge but one you know you can handle with V at your back.

“I’ll take the one on the left!” you shout to him, sprinting forward to aim a low slice at the belly of the nearest Antenora. It hits, but you have to hit the ground as the demon swings back at you with one of its massive cleavers. From your position below, you carefully turn the sword and jab it up under the creatures jaw, the tip poking out through its head in a shower of blood. It starts to dissolve as you withdraw the blade, standing quickly to face your next target.

One of the Caina steps toward you slowly, and you remember the day Nero taught you about these ugly beasts as you wait for it to slash at you with its scythe. The moment it does, you duck and roll, barely able to somersault between its legs with the sword in hand. Once you’re behind it, you drive the blade into its back with a backwards thrust. Feeling its hot blood splash against your crouched form makes you grin in triumph. Your body aches as you stand; the somersault hadn’t been very graceful. A wince of discomfort crosses your face as you watch V clean up the last Caina with ease.

_It’s amazing how in sync we are, how much we trust one another in a battle._

Then again, it was easy to trust the man who had saved your life before he even knew your name.

“Shall we?” V murmurs, bringing your attention back to the present. You nod and clean your blade, sheathing it cautiously and getting your crutch from where you had dropped it.

You barely manage to catch your breath before the next fight begins, another group of Hellbats and Antenora crawling into existence to try to murder you. They fall much the same as the last ones did, and you share another grin with your partner as you continue forward. He exclaims softly a moment later as another growth of roots comes into view, but this one has a strange gap in it, oozing green pus from the crevice. It smells horrendous, like an infected wound that’s turning gangrenous. You see V reach inside his pocket and pull out the hatchling as you try not to think about what the strange orifice resembles.

He places the little thing in the opening and it wriggles within. After a moment, the structure turns a ghastly shade of green and shatters, a gush of the disgusting fluid spraying across the pavement and barely falling short of where you stand and you retch harshly.

To your disappointment, there’s nothing of note in the small area revealed by the roots disappearance, and you and V trudge onward once more. Another few Caina and Antenora try their luck and fall without much fuss as you enter a marketplace. Sandwich board signs dot the cobblestone area advertising organic produce and boasting about their quality. The green stalls themselves stand much the same as they may have before the infestation, the only significant differences being that all the food is long rotted, flies hovering above boxes of spoiled fruit happily as the sickly-sweet scent tickles your nostrils.

You force down your disgust as your eyes sweep the area and find more of the human shaped husks crowding the pavilion. You block them from your awareness as you follow V, but as you step forward you feel your sword catch on something. You look down to see what caused the sharp tug at your belt to see the grey remains crumble into dust, leaving only the plantlike red fibers, still forming the shape of a human being vaguely as they wave in the breeze.

The sight makes your skin prickle in revulsion, your stomach rolling as you physically retch for what feels like the thousandth time today, your back arching into the motion as saliva floods your mouth in preparation to vomit. You close your eyes as V walks over to you, taking deep breaths and counting internally to soothe your emotions back into submission. His tattooed hand rests on the small of your back as you gather yourself, only speaking once you manage to stand straight again.

 ** _“Like a reflection in a glass, like shadows in the water,”_** he comments gloomily, rubbing a small circle on your lower back before his hand drops away. You give him a shaky nod and step forward, rapidly approaching the base of the root. You can see where it reaches the ground ahead, a strangely wormlike creature hovering nearby. You take one last look at the marketplace and spot a red telephone booth.

_Maybe Nico got the phone working by now!_

You hurry to the booth excitedly, seeing the flickering backlight indicating it still has power only to realize the flaw in your plan; you have no coins. V reaches you with a smirk, unsure why you’re so focused on the booth but following along anyway.

“V, do you have any change? We might be able to call Nico! I gave her the phone from my apartment,” you explain to him and he barks out a laugh in understanding. He fishes around in his pockets for a moment, finally pulling out a single coin with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. Before you can snatch it from his long fingers, he steps into the booth himself and slides the coin in. You hurriedly recite your old phone number and cross your fingers as he dials.

A surge of joy envelops you as you hear V speak into the mouthpiece, telling Nico where to meet you. He hangs up quickly, the conversation brief. As he steps out of the booth, yo hear the loud engine of Nico’s van approaching above you and you look at V in confusion. His emerald eyes shoot up as Nico’s van comes into view, almost seeming to fly as it comes down from above you, and you can hear Nico’s loud exclamation as she loses control of the vehicle.

_Oh no…_

There isn’t enough time to finish the thought as V springs into action, leaping off the top of the booth and using Griffon to give him a tiny bit more lift. He turns and Shadow appears out of nowhere, her heavy paws smashing against the top of Nico’s van to force it to the ground in an echoing crash. V grunts as he lands in a low crouch nearby, casually pushing his hair out of his eyes as he stands straight again.

You gape at V, your open mouth and wide eyes making him chuckles as he glances at you, his steps already bringing him to Nico’s van where it rests under a small green sign that reads _“Bael the Butcher”_. You shake your head and follow him, eager to greet Nico.

“Hey guys, long time no see! Phone was a _good call_ , Y/N!” Nico says, emphasizing her pun with a smug grin as she steps out to give you a hug. You roll your eyes but laugh with her easily.

“Dang, is that the root?” she asks you as she gets her bearings, her eyes drifting to the huge demonic structure in the next area.

“Yes, would you mind waiting for us? We may need to make a hasty exit,” V replies, twirling his cane absentmindedly. Nico nods seriously and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it as she leans against the van to wait and watch as you and V face whatever new monstrosity awaits you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe, I got to do research by playing the mission again... ^.^
> 
> Not much to say on this chapter, oddly enough. It was definitely fun figuring out how to fit Reader into the scenes, deciding what lines needed to be changed so they made sense. I'm going to take a few hours to not write and give my arms a rest, and then I'll get started on the Niddhog fight. Should be up by the end of tomorrow :)
> 
> In case anyone hasn't seen the Flight of the Valkyries taunt, take a look at this - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jgjpetnqvs4
> 
> As always, a round of applause to you for reading and leaving kudos, and a standing ovation to those of you who leave me a comment! It warms my heart and makes me smile so much to see that little notification again, so thank you, thank you!
> 
> Next Chapter - Niddhog ^.^


	24. Stupidity and Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Have a boss fight :3
> 
> Also with this chapter this fic is now over 100,000 words! I'm excited by that :)

V

V strides forward with you following close behind him. He glances at the stalls to his left and right and smirks at the diagram of a cow and the different cuts of meat available at the butcher’s stall.

_How appropriate – we’re about to make brisket out of this next fiend._

A glimmer of motion to his side is all the warning he needs and Griffon blasts out of his arm to pull him out of the path of the flowery pink mass attacking him. He lands with a light exhalation in a low crouch, his eyes already rising to assess the full threat. He hears you drop your crutch and draw your sword as he eyes the creature hovering before him.

“You dodged me! Did you dodge me?” the humanoid pink monstrosity asks him from where it hangs descended straight from the Qlipoth root itself.

“Nidhogg, never liked this guy…” Griffon scoffs, landing on V’s raised arm as he stands. He can’t help but smirk at his friend’s dismissive tone.

“You pest! Do I know you?” Nidhogg replies in his squeaky rumble.

“Dumb as a bag of rocks. Let’s not even mess with this guy, V. He can’t even leave the Qlipoth anyway. Just a Qlipoth parasite.” Griffon adds condescendingly. V spots you ducking inside the rubble on his right, taking a defensive position until you can decide the best way to attack. His smirk deepens; knowing you’re out of harms way means he can go all out.

“Did you insult me?” Nidhogg queries softly.

“Uh oh…” Griffon murmurs from V’s arm.

“You insult me!” the demon bellows angrily, raising one of its bladed arms threateningly.

“I think he heard me… and he’s _angry!”_ Griffon shouts as another flowery pink mass shoots forward. V smoothly spins, putting his back to the Nidhogg as he dodges its attack again dismissively.

“I’m going to kill you!” the creature roars and V can barely contain his laughter as he turns to face it again.

“Not in this lifetime. **_As the air to a bird or the sea to a fish, so is contempt to the contemptible,”_** he recites calmly, stepping forward and extending his silver cane in an invitation. He hears your stifled snickering to the right and shoots you a wink as he flicks his wrist, summoning Shadow in a tornado of black shards.

“You use... de-de-demon...? But you...human...? Huhhhh....?” Nidhogg says, his confusion evident to all as his tendrils streak forward in a flash to attack. V and his summoned friends dodge easily, the attacks too linear to pose much of a threat to the well-practiced team.

 ** _"If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise,"_** V answers with a smirk as he sends Griffon shooting forward to rake the nearest tendril with his talons. Shadow follows close behind, her claws a blur of black as she strikes. Nidhogg makes a noise of complete mystification at V’s recitation and Griffon chuckles as he responds.

 **“** Meaning don't try to think too much, shithead!” he cries gleefully, shooting a string of lightning balls at the tendril.  It recoils slightly and V sees his chance; he sprints at it and sinks the blade of his cane deep into its maw, twisting harshly as he rips it out again. The tendril disintegrates as he backs away again smoothly.

V takes the opening to check on you, his emerald eyes shifting quickly to his right to see you sneaking closer to the tendril nearest to where you hide. He smirks and draws the Nidhogg’s attention by leaping into the air and holding the handle of his cane to his lips like a microphone.

“Come on!” he shouts tauntingly, and the beast lashes out at him in rage. Blades slice the air mere inches from where he nimbly steps out of the way and Shadow roars her approval as she shifts, numerous stalks sprouting from her back to strike the center tendril.

 **“** Even the big bad kitty knows you got shit for brains!” teases Griffon as he lets out a line of lightning bolts directly over the center tendril, scorching it heavily.

 **“** Qu-qu-qu-quiet! You... you... bird and cat!” Nidhogg howls, his anger overwhelming him utterly.  

As Nidhogg focuses on V, you make your move. He watches in the periphery of his vision as you take the last few steps away from your hiding spot and with a cry of effort sink your blade deep into the tendril on the right. Nidhogg immediately looks at you and V snaps his fingers harshly, attempting to use Nightmare’s appearance to keep Nidhogg off you as you desperately try to free your blade from where it’s now stuck halfway through the tendril.

V's skin prickles anxiously as he counts the heartbeats as Nightmare bubbles into existence, each moment seeming to last an eternity as you struggle fearfully. He’s already sprinting to your side, but even _his_ long strides will take much too long to reach you as Nidhogg raises his blades to strike you down. Absolute, soul-crushing terror fills him as he desperately prays for a miracle to save you.

_Leave the sword, dammit! MOVE!_

You finally give up and reach around your back to bring your chainsaw-bat to bear against the powerful hit bearing down on you, barely managing to block in time. You’re pushed back, feet sliding against the cobblestone as Nidhogg uses all his strength against you. V is still sprinting toward you, Nightmare almost fully formed behind him as your terrified gaze catches his.

He can see the moment you realize he can’t save you, that he isn’t fast enough, and it breaks his heart and steals his breath to see the hope drain from your eyes. Yet even as you break his gaze and look back to Nidhogg, you growl and bare your teeth, trembling arms shifting as you press the small button under your thumb to activate the chainsaw.

The mechanism roars to life. Nidhogg’s blades catch on the chain and his arms are tugged along with it to the side. You shove with all your strength to the opposite direction, dropping the bat to slip free and dash toward V in sheer panic.

“Get behind Nightmare!” he shouts forcefully, sending his rage through his link to all three of his summoned friends in a rush of energy. Griffon gasps painfully as the torrent hits him, unleashing it in a blast of electricity that colors the air around him violet for an instant. Shadow roars like a lioness, her form leaping onto Nidhogg’s back and tearing into him with claws and teeth alike in a black blur of wrath.

Nightmare makes no sound, but its form swells slightly as V’s panicked fury hits it. The golem leaps forward and lands with a heaving crash on the demon’s tendril, pinning it in place. V snarls and darts forward, leaping onto the beast’s shoulders and hurling his cane through its face with a feral roar. Nidhogg thrashes uselessly against him and he bares his teeth in a primal smile as he speaks.

 ** _“The cut worm forgives the plow,”_** he growls darkly to the dying demon, “What do you say?”

Nidhogg falls to the ground with a long groan of pain and V hops off, twisting his cane free with a flourish. He releases his hold on Nightmare as the nauseating creature dissolves, the cracking sound of the Qlipoth root breaking echoing loudly in the sudden silence. V hears you stepping closer to him, the sound reassuring him as he watches the great structure fall.

_There’s something behind it… what IS that?_

“Y/N, get your sword. _NOW!_ ” he shouts in alarm as a towering form comes into view. You sprint to where your sword lies on the ground, having fallen loose when the tendril dissolved in death. Griffon hovers near V’s head and spots the intimidating creature easily.

 **“** Okay, um, alright, that’s not good at all. That’s not good,” the demonic bird begins worriedly. V waits until you rejoin him, sword and bat in hand before he turns away, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that the enemy in the distance is far too powerful for the two of you to defeat.

“Wait, where--where are you going? Are you running away? That, that's not a good sign!” Griffon comments loudly. V turns to face the bird, gesturing at the far-off foe with his cane as he responds.

 **“** I'm afraid that... _that's_ a little bit more than we can take right now.”

Griffon and Shadow both face the creature as it turns and spots your group at last. It fires two blasts from what look like antennae, the shots hitting right where the two summons watch. The impact sends V stumbling, you barely managing to catch yourself with the bat as you follow suit. The whole group takes off, fleeing the foe as it shoots more blasts your way.

“Let's get out of here, V!” Griffon cries fearfully, and just as his beak snaps shut the ground crumbles beneath V’s feet. He gasps as he begins to fall, completely unable to see you or do anything to stop his rapid descent into darkness.

________________

 June 15th, 7:27 am

The landing knocks every scrap of air from your lungs and you gasp desperately, forcing your chest to reinflate after the harsh impact. V lies a few feet away from you, miraculously unhurt as he turns to look back up the hole you’d just fallen through. You follow his gaze to see the underside of the beast that blew the hole in the ground passing overhead, its echoing steps an intimidating rhythm above.

“We're alive! We've made it! It's our lucky day, V! Let's find a game of cards,” Griffon quips as he hovers overhead. V turns to look around and you take stock of the situation.

_I’ve still got my sword, and the bat, but I’ve lost my other crutch. My bag is here too, I hope nothing fell out…_

You carefully wiggle your fingers and toes, checking for any serious injury and thankfully finding none. You somehow managed to gain only some bruises from the fall.

“These Qliphoth roots... they're everywhere,” V murmurs, slowly rising to his feet. He seems unhurt too, and you sigh in relief at your unimaginable luck so far.

“Well, we ARE underground…” Griffon replies sarcastically. V steps to you and offers you a hand up, pulling you to your feet and brushing off the dust from your shoulders carefully. He smirks as he responds to Griffon.

“Then I guess we have some clearing up to do,” he comments dryly, taking your hand in his as the two of you step toward the only route available to you, a dark tunnel leading to who-knows-where.

“And me without my gardening sheers,” Griffon jokes and both you and V let out a light chuckle as he flicks his wrist, bringing Griffon back to his body with a puff of black that’s barely visible in the darkness surrounding you.

“Are you alright, little fox?” V asks with a concerned glance.

“I think so, just a few scrapes and some bruises. What about you?” you respond with an equally worried gaze. He chuckles and holds his arms out for you to examine.

“The same, love. It seems we were fortunate this time,” he answers wryly.

“Let’s not make a habit of it, though,” you quip with a smirk. His arms seem alright, a thin coating of dust obscuring his intricate tattoos and a scrape on his elbow but nothing serious. You take his hand and step forward, the pair of you easily forging on.

The brick tunnel reminds you of a horror movie with its dank, musty smell and oppressive silence. Your steps echo alongside V’s as you take in the pulsing roots arching through the path above your head. You stifle a yawn and pause to pull out a bottle of water and some protein bars, handing the snack to V with a smile as you chug half the bottle, saving the rest for the poet. He chews as he walks, carefully saving the wrapper in his pocket instead of dropping it on the floor.

Not far ahead, a root blocks the way forward. Still chewing, V gestures for you to do the honors of bursting the horrible red mass next to a grate. Your sword makes quick work of it, and you do your best to avoid the worst of the blood that showers you upon your success but some of the coppery crimson marks you anyway. The tunnel takes on a tang as you follow V to the now revealed pipe, emerging a moment later in an industrial facility of some kind.

A rumble above shakes the walls, dust clouding the air as the massive creature outside makes its presence known once more. You can hear an occasional gunshot as you and V move quietly on, climbing a series of pallets to reach another pustule that must be removed to clear the way forward. Just as V sends Griffon to attack it, a huge metallic leg crashes through the ceiling; the beast is still nearby.

You take cover as Griffon shoots lightning at the thing, Shadow appearing a beat later to slash at it alongside the bird. You hear a familiar shout from outside – _Nero!_

_He must be battling it out there! Is he nuts?!_

“What are you guys doing down there?” his familiar teasing tone calls out. You’re about to shout at him to run when Griffon chimes in.

“You didn't think you did all that by yourself did ya?” the mouthy bird mocks the young warrior, and he crouches down to glare at the blue demon.

 **“** Ya know, I bet you taste like chicken...” Nero responds tauntingly.

 **“** Why you ungrateful sonuva---” Griffon splutters uselessly, about to fly up to join Nero but V’s cane stops him in mid-flap, much to your relief.

 **“** We'll leave this beast to you. We must press on,” V states calmly, twirling his cane momentarily before striding away. You do a double take between the poet and the warrior, wanting to help them both simultaneously but unable to join Nero, so you have no choice but to catch up to V.

Fear for your friend is ice in your veins as you chase him down, the sounds of Nero’s fight fading as you move on.

“V, we have to hurry! Nero might need help,” you exclaim to the poet and he nods seriously, a grim focus plain in his expression.

The two of you move forward a little bit faster, making quick work of any demons foolish enough to get in your way. Turning a corner, a monstrously huge shape beside you reveals the facility to be a shipyard. The red and black hull dwarfs the next leg that pokes through the ceiling, and this time you don’t hide. You leave the demons to V and focus on the leg, slashing at it repeatedly with your blade until it withdraws.

Shadow clears the next pustule, the disturbance bringing forth a trio of Empusa that fall into ash within moments. You marvel at the sight of the innards of the hull as you cross a section that has yet to be welded closed, scaffolding showing where the builders last worked. The other side of the hull holds a number of shipping containers, forcing you to scramble your way on top of them to progress with a little help from V.

Once again, one of the hulking demon’s legs pierces the ceiling and you join Shadow in attacking it, forcing it to withdraw quickly. The red shipping containers barely shift as the walls shake around you, and you imagine they must still be full of supplies, keeping them weighted down.

_I wonder what’s inside?_

_Suppose it’s irrelevant._

V helps you ascend another container and you look down into the next area with revulsion as you spot an Empusa horde feeding on a crimson puddle of some poor souls remains. You only count two and look around for the rest you know are lurking as V hops lightly to the ground to face the threat. The moment his feet hit the concrete, a Queen rounds the corner with a bellow of rage, pausing briefly to lick the puddle before she sets her sights on the lean poet. You’re about to slide down to help when he winks at you and gestures for you to wait.

You watch as he snaps his fingers and Nightmare rises from the ground to battle the Queen, its bulky body blocking her claws from reaching V as it shoots lasers at the demon, an explosion following a split second later that decimates the puny Empusa.

Nightmare leaps forward, landing a harsh few punches on the Queen and V darts into range, thrusting his cane in her abdomen and tearing it up her body with a sickening squelch. As the Queen and her children alike dissolve into ash, Nightmare holds an arm out to you in invitation and you see V’s smirk as you carefully take hold. You find the texture to be similar to a rocky cliffside as the golem lowers you to the ground gently before bubbling away.

The remainder of the shipyard passes with little trouble, but the way out is blocked by a shipping container. Griffon points out a nearby hole in the ground and the group descends back into another dank, musty tunnel. A measly few Empusa barely make you and V pause, their hordes nothing more than an annoyance to you at this point. It takes less time than you expected before you spot daylight to the right, a damaged road having caused a convenient cave in.

You emerge under an old building toppled precariously on its edge, leaning heavily over the street and casting it in shadow. The imposing Qlipoth root dances in the sky nearby, the clouds near it stained red and black.

“Almost there…” V mutters quietly, and you give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as you step forward into the meager light.

“Let’s go, then, my poet,” you reply with a smile, and his lips set in a firm line as he follows you.

A few husks dot the courtyard ahead and your pace increases as you spot a telephone booth. V wordlessly holds out a coin to you with a smirk, letting you do the honors this time, but Nico doesn’t answer. You rejoin V with a tight frown.

_I hope nothing is wrong… maybe she’s busy helping Nero?_

V’s face matches yours as you wordlessly walk forward and he reaches out to take your hand in a comforting grip. Even so, anxiety floods you as you imagine why Nico didn’t answer, wondering what could be keeping her busy.

“V, do you think Nico’s---”

As you speak, V’s cane presses you against a wall harshly and he signals to you to be silent. You instantly close your mouth and listen, your blood running cold when you hear a chilly voice speak around the corner commandingly. The words themselves make no sense to you but when V slowly pokes his face around the corner to see who it is, the look on his face when he glances back at you amplifies your fear tenfold, making your limbs clench in preparation for a fight.

V holds you back for a long moment before he deems it safe at last, his cane releasing you as he steps into the courtyard ahead, much to your alarm. You follow cautiously, drawing your blade with a soft hiss of metal. You catch your breath as your eyes take in the sight before you.

A skeletal horse two stories tall stands before you, its mane a blazing trail of blue flame sending waves of heat rising above it. Its hooves have small licks of their own blue flames, its body shimmering in the strange light. The rider is even more imposing, a heavily armored humanoid with a weapon three times as long as your own that spits bolts of purple light from within. A ghostly black cape falls from the rider’s massive shoulders.

The strange creature is both beautiful and terrifying, striking you with a confusing mixture of awe and heart-stopping fear.

_Is V insane? How are we supposed to fight THAT?!_

You watch the poet confidently stride into the creature’s sight line, arrogance in every step. The demon turns to face him slowly and you can hear the smirk in V’s voice as he addresses it.

“I see. I know what you are. Don’t worry… _I’ll be gentle,”_ he informs it, smacking the handle of his cane into his palm for added effect. Under any other circumstances, the tone he uses would have made you shiver and lick your lips, but right now it’s all you can do to not run away as the horse rears on its hind legs and charges straight at your beloved poet.

_What is he DOING!?_

V waits until the horse is almost upon him before he finally moves, a wiggle of his hand the only indication of his intent as Shadow forms a loose cloud beneath his feet and carries him out of danger. The rider swipes his cruel weapon across the ground where V just stood and turns again to face him.

_Wait, what am **I** doing?_

You swallow your fear to the best of your ability, refusing to force V to battle this demon without you. Even so, your sweaty hands shake as you run forward with a growl, frustrated by your own hesitation. You thrust the blade forward as you reach the horse, lucky it hasn’t moved yet, and it slices a shallow valley into its hind leg.

The horse kicks its rear leg out at you and you barely dodge it, heart pounding erratically as your body hits the ground. You hear a harsh neigh and feel something tickle your skin, your vision turning purple for an instant before everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, Reader had a rough morning. And it isn't even 9 am yet o.O 
> 
> Tough day for writing, one of my cockatiels kept begging me to scratch his neck so I had to oblige :3
> 
> Today's soundtrack, to highlight a few key moments - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqdyyxdZ4cQ
> 
> As always, my thanks for reading, leaving kudos, and leaving me a juicy comment! Much love to you all!
> 
> Next chapter - Second part of Elder Geryon fight, and a touch of angst just for fun.


	25. To Mourn is to Have Loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers! Welcome back. 
> 
> Got some big news - I'm starting a new job next Monday! Which is great, because money is a thing. Unfortunately, it also means I'll have far less time to write. I don't know how much of an impact it'll have, but this weekend I'll be writing as much as I can to get plenty of content ready for you all!
> 
> With that, enjoy!

June 15th, 8:32 am

It doesn’t take you long to put two and two together when you regain consciousness to the smell of nicotine and oil, the feeling of comfortable padding beneath your body a dead giveaway. You clench your jaw and seethe in silent frustration at your failure, already making the logical assumption that V must have gotten you away from the horse and its rider.

_Back in Nico’s van again… did he **seriously** leave me behind **again**?_

You open your bleary eyes to ask, fully expecting to find your mechanically inclined friend working on some contraption nearby, box of cereal on hand.

Instead, a young brunette in a spare change of Nico’s clothes greets you with a wary smile, her short hair bouncing slightly as she moves closer to you. Her eyes are extraordinary, one red and the other a bluish-green shade.

“Hey, how ya feeling?” the strange woman asks kindly. You stare at her blankly for a long moment of awkward silence before her question penetrates your stupefied mind.

“Uh, okay I guess. Who, _sorry_ , but who are you?” you ask her uncomfortably and she makes a face as she responds.

“Oh yeah, my bad. I’m Lady, good to meet you! Nico said your name is Y/N, right?”

You sit up slowly, still slightly disconcerted at the presence of a new person, after so long not seeing a new face. “Yeah, that’s right. What’s going on? Wait, _the_ Lady? As in, _Dante’s friend who faced Urizen Lady?”_

_Holy shit, she’s **alive**?_

Lady’s oddly colored eyes darken at the mention of the demon king and she looks away as she mutters a quiet yes, biting her lip anxiously. You wince in guilt and sympathy at the obvious signs of trauma she displays before her face resets into a guarded smile.

“Sorry, that’s probably not a pleasant memory,” you apologize quickly. Lady’s eyes soften slightly, and the tenseness in her body eases just as Nico tromps into the van with a sigh, smelling like she just finished a cigarette outside.

“Any word ye- oh hey you’re awake!” she blurts with a wide-eyed grin, coming to sit next to you and wrap an arm over your shoulders affectionately.

“Before ya ask, V’s fine. He and Nero went back out together after he brought ya to me. They’re in the subway now,” she informs you carefully, and your shoulders tense as frustration pools low in your belly.

_I swear, if they’re gone for three days again he won’t have to worry about merging with Urizen! I’ll kill him myself!_

A familiar sound stops your furious thoughts from spiraling any further as your old phone rings from the front seat. Nico gestures at you to do the honors and you pick it up silently, still upset at both of the two men who might be on the other side.

“Is Y/N awake yet?” V’s worried voice asks impatiently. You warm with the knowledge that his first concern is you, anger at being left behind fading to a low hum in the back of your mind as you answer him.

“I don’t know, is she?”

A relieved sigh greets you, followed by a low chuckle. **_“When she speaks, the voice of heaven I hear,”_** he purrs finally, making a shiver run down your back at his playful tone. You have to clear your throat before you respond.

“Where are you guys?”

“Oh, you’re going to _love_ this, little fox… we’re in the subway exit by the opera house,” he replies, and you can hear the amusement in his voice easily. You grin enthusiastically and try not to squeal with excitement.

“We’ll be right there!” you tell him happily, and he rewards you with another dry chuckle before saying goodbye and disconnecting.

You turn to face Nico, a glimmer in your eyes and a smirk twisting your lips as you speak.

“How fast can you get us to the opera house subway station?”

Her face splits and she cracks her neck as she stands, already striding to the driver’s seat with a confident sparkle in her gaze. You join her up front in the passenger seat and strap in hurriedly, fully expecting Nico’s unfathomable driving style to make the precaution necessary. You look back to see Lady roll her entrancing eyes and brace herself on the couch as the van lurches into motion.

_For once, I’m grateful she’s such an insane driver!_

Nico takes an access tunnel to get underground, the van speeding through the darkness rapidly. She seems to naturally know how to get where she’s going, not once stopping and looking around and no map anywhere in sight. To your amazement, it only takes her five minutes to reach the two men; with a final burst of speed the van smashes through a concrete wall and comes to rest in the low lighting of a subway tunnel with a screech of rubber.

“Help has arrived! Got any cash?” Nico shouts at V from the open window, but he ignores her and instead comes to your side to open the door for you with a smirk. You unbuckle your seatbelt and take his outstretched hand, wrapping your arms around him in a hug the moment your feet touch the ground.

_He smells so good…_

You tilt your neck upwards to press your lips against his briefly, all too aware of your audience as Nico wolf whistles. You shoot a glare at her as you pull away from V but she only waggles her eyebrows in return with a suggestive grin.

“Get your things, little fox. Nero’s waiting for us above,” V murmurs quietly and you beam at the thought of traveling with both of your two favorite men, and possibly being able to see the opera house again. You dash inside the van and grab your weapons and backpack excitedly, barely noticing Lady and Nico in your rush. You rummage through your suitcase for a moment, adding a few choice items to the backpack before you hug Nico goodbye, waving at Lady as you rejoin V where he waits, reading silently.

“Ready!” you announce, and he calmly closes his book, exaggerating his slowness as he tucks it away in his vest, smirking at your eagerness. Impatient, you start walking backwards away from him teasingly, his emerald eyes sparkling in amusement as he catches up to you in a few of his lengthy strides. Together, you ascend into daylight, blinking like bats at the sudden change in brightness.

For a moment you aren’t sure where you are, the landscape so heavily mangled by the Qlipoth that you don’t recognize it. Chunks of rubble are strewn everywhere, the road split into several different levels from the numerous roots making their home beneath the pavement. You pan your gaze, noting the red double decker buses and gasp as you see the buildings in the distance.

The previously flat area now features multiple levels of elevation, several structures having been forced to new heights above their foundations by several stories. Through a gap in the devastation, you can see the main structure of the Qlipoth. The way it moves slightly, as if it’s taunting you, makes your blood boil in rage.

_We’re coming for you, Urizen! You’ll pay for what you’ve done._

Then you see the opera house and your rage vanishes inside a well of sadness.

The entirety of the front entryway is _gone._ The wall with the mural of _La Boheme,_ the beautifully carved columns that framed it, the gilded arches that led to the balcony stairwells. Even the damn _bathrooms_ are gone. Where once stood the most awe-inspiring façade you’d ever seen, only empty air remains. Your entire body sags, a mournful ache settling in your gut.

“It’s… it’s _gone…_ ” you whisper, disbelief staining your voice.

_I’ll never get to see an opera there…_

“Not all of it, little fox. Look down,” V tells you gently, his words a tiny puff of air that rekindles the ember of hope in your heart.

The ember sparks a flame as your eyes drift downwards to see the performance hall mostly intact, the stage still holding set pieces from the most recent show. Decorative statues have fallen from their homes on the columns, their shining forms lying in the refuse near the lip of the stage. The balconies stand in silent judgement of the scene, their red hangings an echo of the heavy cloth that still drapes across the stage.

_At least there’s that much left._

“Would you like a closer look?” V asks you nearby. His hand finds yours, long fingers filling the gaps between your own perfectly. You give him a grateful squeeze as you take the first step downhill, following the path of the devastated roadway down as far as it will take you. Halfway down, Nero steps into view from behind a fallen column, a wry smirk adorning his features.

“Took you guys long enough… feeling alright, Y/N?” he asks you as you reach him, already pulling you into a one-armed hug. You nod against his firm shoulder before he releases you to scratch the back of his neck uncomfortably, a light stain coloring his cheeks at the obvious display of his care for you.

“We should get moving,” V states simply. Nero nods and the three of you continue on down the road toward the opera house. To your surprise, there are lit torches on the stage, the flames licking in a ghostly shade of blue. The shade reminds you of the horse and rider and you shudder uncomfortably. The sets are beautiful, painted castles and towns made of plywood. You try to imagine what it must have looked like during a performance, the singers costumed in medieval style dress powerfully singing their arias to a full crowd, the masses dressed in their finest to match the elegance of the venue.

_They’ll rebuild it. They **have to.**_

You climb onto the stage, Nero and V beside you as your curiosity drives you forward. Even if you _do_ manage to see an opera someday, you doubt you’ll be able to sit this close let alone have the opportunity to explore backstage. Energy surges through you at the thought, a pleased flush staining your grinning cheeks.

_I wonder what kinds of props I’ll find? Or if there are any costumes in the back?_

Five loud crashes crush your dreams of exploration as a quintet of demonic knights drops down from above, swords and shields held menacingly in front of their intimidating forms. You recognize them; these are the same type of demon that sliced your hip open all too recently. You take a few fearful steps back as Nero and V advance, your stomach dancing in a ballet of terror.

“Nice! Getting the band back together, huh?” Nero quips with a taunting smirk.

 ** _“What evil lurks… I must destroy!”_** V intones harshly, pinching the bridge of his nose and glaring intensely at the foes. You swallow nervously and draw your sword, mentally preparing yourself to fight as defensively as you can and stay out of the two men’s way, hoping you don't get hit again.

“I thought that was the plan all along,” Nero comments dryly, drawing his own sword.

A cacophonous rumble draws your attention behind you as the heavy golden frame of the stage crashes to the ground, more stone joining it as the entire stage starts to rumble under your feet. Your eyes widen and you catch your breath as the stage _moves,_ the structure no longer held in place and sliding downhill at a speed to rival Nico’s driving. Adrenaline pulses through you, realizing you have nowhere to run now.

_This day just keeps getting better..._

V flicks his wrist and a whirlwind of black announces Griffon and Shadow’s arrival as he drops into his battle stance, eyes glued on the demons as he circles the stage gracefully. Griffon dashes forward to land a heavy blow with his talons against the center demon. It stands slightly taller than its fellows, its cape a beautiful shade of violet. Shadow shoots ahead with numerous black spikes elongating from her body, reaching out to strike the same central demon.

Nero aims his pistol one handed, squeezing the trigger repeatedly and releasing a stream of bullets on the same tall demon. He lowers the gun once it’s empty, switching to his blade and surging forward with a cry, slashing powerfully against the demon’s waist. It staggers but recovers quickly and aims at the young warrior. Your heart clenches as the sword descends, remembering how painful it was to be slice by the brutal blade, but Nero artfully dodges to the side with a laugh. He hops lightly, landing briefly on top of the neighboring demon and slashes at it as he drops down behind it, his sword leaving a nasty trail in its wake.

You’re forced to redirect your attention as one of the shielded knights advances on you, its steps slow and measured and easy to counter. For a moment your fear paralyses you, the echo of the ache in your hip reemerging in a treacherous reminder of what happens when these demons land a blow. Gathering your senses, you back away carefully, looking for an opening in its stance to exploit but the shield is too large.

“V! Nero! Can you hit it from behind while it’s focused on me?” your panicked voice shouts out to your allies, not taking your eyes off the enemy before you for an instant. You see a flash of motion behind the demon, a sound like an aluminum can being crushed, and it starts dissolving into ash before your eyes to reveal Nero already sprinting to the next foe. You scan the stage, taking stock of the battle.

V is on the other side, intense emerald gaze locked on the lead demon as he directs Griffon and Shadow’s brutal attacks. Two of the lesser knights remain, Nero engaging one nearby and the other advancing on his unprotected back. A split second of terror and hesitation hits you before you tenaciously subdue the fear and run forward, blade extended as you attack the demon sneaking up on your friend.

Your blade strikes true, piercing its upper thigh through the armor, much to your surprise. You pull the blade back, eyes wide and fear-dilated as it turns to face you, and over its silver shoulder you spot Nero finish off the other knight and turn to help you with yours. His blade flashes out, hacking the demon’s armor apart forcefully. It staggers and you step forward with a vengeful grown to land a slash of your own on its arm, your blade somehow ripping through the metal once again. With a final shout, Nero hacks at its head and the armored creature dissolves into ash.

That just leaves the tall knight. It’s still focused on V, his summoned friends having thoroughly marked it with their unforgiving blows. Its armor is dented and scratched, riven in two in some places and dripping demon blood. Nero sprints forward, but you refrain. You know the two men can finish it off easily enough.

“Slice them,” V’s dark battle tone commands, and Shadow shifts into her familiar bladed form, the sharp edge splitting the demon’s armor even further. She lands just as Nero lunges forward, his flaming blade piercing right through the creature’s gut in a death blow.

“Guys! We gotta get OFF THIS THING NOW!” Griffon cries from above. Shadow vanishes, her portion of V’s tattoos darkening to mark her return as he dashes alongside you and Nero for the edge of the stage and leaps off. The three of you land more or less gracefully on the earthen ground and turn to watch as the stage falls into a pit of darkness, a chasm opened by the Qlipoth. You choke back a sob as the last remaining portion of your beloved opera house sinks into the depths, never to be seen again.

_NOW it’s gone… gone forever. Even if it is rebuilt it won’t be the same._

It strikes you then, how odd it is that you’re as upset by the loss of this historic building as you are by the loss of thousands of the lives of your fellow citizens. Maybe because you never bonded with anyone in the city, never cared enough to try. None of them mattered to you, not _really._ You were upset that they were dead, enraged by the situation, yet felt almost no personal grief for them. You cared when their lives were in your hands, but that wasn’t a personal connection; more a result of your soul-crushing guilt than evidence of your humanity.

The opera house had _meant_ something to you, had stood as a symbol of hope in a hopeless world. A beacon of the arts when you needed it most, when every day was the same as the one before and you couldn’t see a path forward that actually resulted in happiness for you.

_And now it’s gone._

The tightness in your chest intensifies, tears threatening to spill from your quivering eyes as V comes to stand beside you. His hand finds yours, fingers twining together tenderly as he speaks.

“I’m sorry, little fox. I know it meant quite a lot to you,” he murmurs softly, and you let out a shuddering breath and squeeze his hand in gratitude for his understanding.

“It… it did. But it was only a building. There are more important things to worry about,” you remind him with a sad smile.

Nero comes over to stand on V’s other side, a rueful smirk twisting his lips. “Took us long enough to get here. What, tired already?” he teases you and V, making light of the tense expressions on your faces.

“I’ve just remembered something… This town was attacked once before,” V announces with surprise coloring his tone.

“Is that so?” Nero comments.

V steps forward, pulling you with him as he approaches a small green horse mounted on a metal coil; a child’s playground toy.

“I was here… I can still see it. In fact I was playing right here,” V adds, dropping your hand to reverently touch the green horse in memory. His eyes seem haunted as he looks around, searching for something. He uses his cane to point to a house in the distance.

“That was the house,” he continues, “This is where we part ways. You go ahead.”

You and Nero both stare at the lean poet in surprise, eyes wide at his declaration.

“You’re gonna miss all the fun,” Nero teases lightly. V takes your hand again and frowns slightly, his emerald gaze darkening.

“No, I must seek the devil sword Sparda,” he rumbles, and Nero stares at him in shock.

_What the hell is he talking about? And why does Nero look so… **scared?**_

“What? Yeah, I don’t think that’s such a good idea, trust me,” the young warrior urges the poet, worried gaze flicking to yours for some support. You have no idea what’s going on and stay silent.

“You are not the only one who thinks so. But to win this fight, we’re going to need all the help we can get,” the poet assures him, turning to walk away with you following close behind. You shoot one last concerned look at Nero before you and V leave him behind,

The two of you walk in silence for a long time, navigating a labyrinth of wreckage and devastation. Your confusion swirls in your mind as you try fruitlessly to remember something, _anything,_ you may have heard or read about this supposedly powerful sword. Nothing comes to mind and you sigh in frustration as you give up and ask V.

“So, what’s the deal with this sword?”

The tattooed poet hums softly in acknowledgement, choosing his words carefully as he steps over a hunk of stone in his path. “It’s a blade with a complicated history. Originally it was wielded by Sparda himself, and when he sealed the Underworld off he imbued the sword with his power to strengthen the seal. To this day, it holds that power. It is most effective in the hands of Sparda’s kin, though it requires great strength of body and mind. I have a theory that Nero is a descendant of Sparda, and he may be able to wield it against Urizen,” the poet explains patiently.

_Oh, ok then. It’s just a sword that has demonic power inside it. Totally normal._

_What even **is** my life anymore?_

A few short steps later and the two of you emerge in the remains of a graveyard, some of the graves having been shifted so far by the Qlipoth’s growth as to now be at a ninety degree angle from the ground you stand upon. V pauses at the precipice of a steep cliff, twisting his wrist to summon Griffon in a maelstrom of black shards as his arm lightens considerably. The blue demon lands on a nearby plinth with a flutter.

“What’s up, Shakespeare? Little lady,” the avian caws out, his three pronged beak splitting in a reminder of his strange origins.

“We need you to get a closer look around, the devil sword Sparda is nearby and we must find it,” V instructs him, and he lifts off with a huff.

“More scout duty… alright, be right back,” Griffon complains as he flaps away. You wait with V at the edge, glancing quickly at the crevasse below with a shudder.

_Don’t fucking fall here._

Griffon returns quickly, clearly agitated by whatever he spotted.

“Did you find it?” V inquires quietly.

“Uh, well… I don’t know _what_ I found, but… I think I saw some demon’s dancing?” Griffon replies uneasily.

“Dancing? Are you serious?” you question the bird, and he nods seriously back at you as V speaks.

“Well, then I guess we keep going. The devil sword Sparda is nearby,” he comments with a wry smirk. He reaches out to take your hand and steps forward, eager to continue your trek.

The way forward is difficult, requiring you to scramble up over massive slabs of rocks periodically. A few Empusa rudely try to stop you, but are dealt with disdainfully by V. You enter a wide courtyard to see a few Caina and you draw your sword with a feral grin. Before you have the chance to cut them down, a low rumble sounds somewhere behind you. V roughly shoves you aside and follows quickly with a short tumble to the side as an armored Behemoth comes barreling through, turning the Caina into roadkill as it passes through the courtyard.

It slams into a stone mausoleum, the structure crumbling as the creature turns to face you and V. Taking another look at the beast before you, you sheath your sword and pull out your chainsaw-bat, activating the mechanism instantly with a snarl. The Behemoth rushes at you, it’s movements so linear that you easily move out of its path and drag the spinning blades against the chains holding its armor in place. One of the sheets of metal falls to the ground as the chain breaks, revealing a section of flabby grey flesh to your vision.

A slough of lightning balls shoots straight into the exposed area and the creature growls angrily as it turns around, its grey flesh seared like a fine steak. You spot a few Caina and an Antenora scrabbling through their small portals as the Behemoth charges again, and you have no choice but to dodge directly into the attack range of one of the Caina. You bring the bat up as you streak past it, blocking its scythe attack hastily. Adrenaline surges through your body as you shift the bat into a one-handed grip and draw your sword, slashing it against the Caina as its only weapon is locked against yours. The Caina disintegrates and you turn your attention back to the Behemoth.

V has managed to get another chunk of armor off, and the second Caina is already gone. Only the Antenora and the Behemoth remain. The Antenora is closer to you and you drop the bat as you prepare to face it. It rages toward you, a berserker-esque charge if ever you’d seen one, and you dodge yet again. Its swinging arms manage to strike you as you move, throwing you off balance and forcing your body to the ground. Your forehead strikes a rock as you fall and blood runs in rivulets down one side of your face as you scramble to your feet, desperate to put some distance between yourself and the Antenora.

_Assess the damage._

Other than the stream of crimson tinting your vision, everything looks as it should. No dizziness and you’re still able to think normally.

_No concussion, then. Just a cut._

You wipe the blood away with an irritated growl and turn to ace the Antenora again. Just as you’re about to attack it, Shadow races over and shifts, several black tendrils reaching out from her body to deliver a series of blows to the demon. You move in and stab your sword through its chest and it disintegrates.

You glace back to the Behemoth to see V landing on the back of its neck, sinking his silver cane deep into its face as he croons to it.

“Resist all you want…”

He gives his cane a sharp twist, his body following the motion into a flawless pirouette as he looks it in the eye in its final moments.

“What a pitiful sight,” he snarls and the Behemoth turns to ash, blowing away in the soft breeze.

His emerald eyes find your in the next instant, lips twisting in concern at the amount of blood on your face as he strides over to you.

“Are you alright?” he asks worriedly.

“Yeah, just a small scratch. Head wounds always bleed a lot,” you assure him and he smirks, leaning down to kiss you briefly before you sit down to press some gauze to the wound, helping slow the bleeding enough that it actually clots. Once you have a respectable scab formed, you stand and take V's hand, setting off again.

V is unusually quiet as you descend into a dark cave, a lake of filthy water shining in the low light. It’s difficult to tell what the structures here were before the Qlipoth, their forms so abused and broken as to be unrecognizable. Griffon has to help in a few spots, but overall traversing it isn’t difficult.

“You’re awfully quiet, V. Thinking about mommy dearest?” Griffon pipes up suddenly.

_His mother? Griffon makes it sound like something important…_

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But the past is… a bitter place for me,” V answers distractedly.

_**Definitely** something important._

“V, did something happen to your mother?” you ask him as gently as you can, but he still tenses. His expression is agonized as he turns to face you.

“She… she died many years ago. I saw it happen. She saved my brother but left me behind,” he tells you mournfully, a lost and hurt sheen on his piercing gaze. He bites his lower lip and you step forward to wrap him in your arms, hoping you can ease his pain even by a fraction even as your mind swirls at the implications.

“I’m so sorry, my poet… I had no idea. Is that why you hate Dante so much?” you prod carefully.

“It… it is a factor, yes. We didn’t get along well as children, too different but alike in our stubbornness. Eva, my mother… she tried to keep the peace, tried to treat us fairly. But even her kind heart couldn’t bridge the gap,” he answers slowly. You take his hand and lead him to a chunk of rubble to sit down for a moment.

“Do you want to tell me what happened, V?”

_Please tell me…_

He tenses at the idea, going rigid as he wrestles internally with his own personal demons. He clenches his jaw and swallows heavily before meeting your sympathetic gaze.

“I… I’ll try,” he responds, his tattooed fingers clinging to you like a lifeline in a stormy sea. You sit in silence, waiting as he collects himself and prepares to speak about what must have been one of the worst days of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, we're almost at Dante! 
> 
> As always, my deepest thanks for reading, leaving kudos, and above all else for commenting. It's truly an amazing feeling to get that email, telling me someone left me some words. Such validation, much wow. :3
> 
> Next chapter - In case you hadn't guessed, we find out exactly how V lost his mother and the events that led to it.


	26. Sons of Sparda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, my friends! Got a lovely little chapter here for ya, this one was both fun and challenging to write. 
> 
> Enjoy!

V

Despite the passage of time, V’s recollections of the night his mother died have not faded. Not in the slightest. He can still smell the smoke, feel the terror coiled in his belly and the images will forever be painted in his mind. He closes his eyes tightly as the memory fills him and he begins to speak, his voice catching periodically.

________________

Vergil was sitting at the kitchen table, short legs swinging absently underneath him as he sketched battle plans, formations for massive armies against even more numerous foes. He’d always had a mind for strategy, for tactical thinking. It made him feel closer to his father every time he imagined a battlefield, and as time passed after his father’s disappearance, he found himself doing so more and more frequently. It brought an unpleasant ache to his heart, but he ignored the sensation and focused on his schemes.

Dante sat across from him, doing his best to copy his slightly older twin and create his own battle plans, but the younger Sparda twin had never been as strategically inclined and often fidgeted or peeked at Vergil’s sketches for ideas. It irked him; he _hated_ his hard work being copied, his brother’s laziness and lack of drive getting more irritating the more he did it.

_Why can’t he just do his own work and stop stealing mine?_

Dante sighed heavily, his boredom reaching its peak. “Vergil, let’s go spar! This is _boring_!” he complained childishly. Vergil gritted his teeth and took a breath before answering.

“You can go if you like; I’m not finished yet,” his tight tone replied.

“And spar alone? No way! Besides, think how happy dad will be when he gets back and we can fight as well as he can! We have to practice!” Dante countered with an excited grin, and his words made Vergil’s patience finally snap. He slammed his pencil down on the table, his cold eyes rising to stare into his twin’s eager gaze.

“Don’t you get it? Dad is _dead,_ he isn’t coming back! Not ever! It’s up to us to protect mom now, so stop being so lazy and selfish!” he snarled harshly.

Dante gasped, his lower lip trembling as he absorbed his brother’s brutal words, as well as their truth. Just as Dante began to cry, their mother’s quiet steps entered the kitchen from the living room where she had been reading. Her clever eyes took in the scene instantly and she came to lay her gentle hands on Dante’s heaving shoulders as she spoke.

“What happened, boys?” her kind voice asked. Vergil hadn’t even opened his mouth before Dante answered in a tortured wail.

“Vergil s-said dad is _dead!”_

Eva gave Vergil a look, that _Mom Look_ that said he was in trouble. Indignation filled him as he snapped back.

“Dante was being lazy again! It’s not _my_ fault he’s too stupid to figure out the truth on his own!” he shouted, standing so quickly his chair clattered to the floor.

 _“Vergil!_ Apologize to your brother!” Eva commanded with a slight frown, and Vergil’s frustration reached a new high.

 _“No!_ I won’t! He _is_ stupid, and lazy, and selfish and I _hate_ him!” he cried out and ran out the side door, leaving the house far behind as his fury and hurt fueled his pumping legs.

 _“VERGIL!”_ he heard his mother call behind him, the last time he would ever hear her voice without pain marring it. He didn’t even turn around, instead clenching his jaw and ignoring her as he ran onward.

_Stupid Dante! He always gets me in trouble!_

He didn’t stop until he reached the playground, his favorite spot blessedly open. He climbed on the horse with a grimace, his anger still swirling in his mind. He wished it were a real horse, so that he could ride it right into Dante’s stupid face and make him piss himself in fear!

The image soothed his anger at long last, and Vergil paused as he reflected on the cruel things he had said.

_Maybe I was a little mean… I don’t hate him, he just makes me so angry sometimes!_

He sighed, knowing he’d have to apologize when he eventually went home. For now, he decided to keep working on his designs, visualizing them in action around him in a massive clash of forces, painting himself as a mighty general. He picked up a stick from near his feet, raising it like a sword over his head and slashing it down in a command to attack.

A loud crash breaks his indulgent fantasies, forcefully bringing his mind back to reality. He tried to find the source of the noise, his eyes drifting around him until they at last settled on where he knew his home to be.

_Smoke!_

_It’s on fire!_

He dropped his stick, almost tripping in his hurry to run home and make sure his family is safe from the flames. Fear coiled in his stomach like a viper, a poisonous tang rising in his throat as his short legs carried him home with all the haste he could muster.

A block from home, he could see the flames licking the wooden structure, the top floor completely engulfed and the ground floor not far behind as his terrified young eyes watched. He couldn’t see his family outside and kept running, his breath coming in short gasps as he reached the front of his blazing home at last.

_Please… please let them be okay!_

He looked toward the front stoop, his horrified eyed spotting his mother within through the window. She was screaming, her agonized cries barely audible over the crackling flames. Vergil stepped forward, determined to reach her somehow, but the doorknob scorched his small hands when he touched it and he instinctively recoiled. A low growl escapes his throat as he wraps his shirt around his palm to try again, but a huge beam crashes down inside and the force knocks him to the ground several feet back. He looked through the window again, the glass now shattered from the heat, and he saw his mothers form pinned beneath the heavy beam that had fallen.

He stood as quickly as he could, already running back to the door when the demons approached his helpless mother, their cruel blades sinking deep into her tender flesh as he watched outside. Her screams reach a fever pitch as her body is ripped apart savagely before her young son’s eyes. A spray of her blood coated what remained of the window and he retched heavily, his body shaking as his eyes flooded uncontrollably. He backed away from the inferno, the terrible knowledge that he couldn’t do anything to help his mother already a treacherous whisper in his mind.

He collapsed to the ground a few strides from the home, his tiny fists beating the cobblestone street uselessly long past the point of being bloody. The pain in his hands feels _just_ , feels _right_. The searing agony of the burns and the sharp bolts with every strike are only the beginning of his punishment, his self-torment only just beginning as he rages against his own weakness, his own slowness and inability to save that which he never knew he treasured so much.

_I should have **been** here, should have been able to stop this, to save her! I’m such a failure, I’ll never be strong enough to protect that which I love!_

__________________

V falls silent, his sorrowful tale told. Its only now he realizes his cheeks are streaked with a few tears, his efforts to remain calm and relay only the facts clearly having failed. He looks to you and sees a mixture of anger, sympathy, and heart-wrenching sadness upon your face, a wide stream of tears still leaking from your eyes as your breath hitches and your shoulders shake subtly.

_I’m sorry, little fox. I wish I had more happy tales from the past to tell you instead._

He pulls you into his darkly lined chest, wrapping you in a comforting embrace and kissing the crown of your head gently, smelling your hair and closing his eyes.

_I love the way she smells…_

_Like home._

**Glad I didn’t have to bust your balls to get ya to tell her that bit, Shakespeare. You’re getting better at this whole “being human” thing.**

_Hmm. Perhaps._

**You gonna tell her about being Nelo Angelo?**

_Eventually. For now, it can wait._

**Fair enough. You gonna tell the others?**

_I… suppose I should._

**That one’s on you. I’m staying out of it.**

V pauses at the blue demon’s words, hos arms around you still tight as you slowly begin to calm.

_Why did you intervene for Y/N, but not for Dante, then?_

**Ain’t it obvious? I actually _like_ Y/N. Dante? Not so much.**

V sends an internal chuckle and Griffon fades into the background of his mind as you look up into his eyes at last.

“I’m so sorry, V. That... that’s a terrible thing to have seen as a child,” you whisper hoarsely. He kisses your forehead, heart warming at the sympathy you’ve shown him.

“If… no, _when_ we get through this, I promise we’ll make so many happy memories together you’ll forget what it feels like to be sad,” you murmur softly. V can’t help but smile at the thought, images of the two of you together a soothing balm to his still weary soul.

“I’d like that very much, little fox,” he replies, and he leans lower to kiss your soft lips, tasting the salt from your tears as he begs you for entry. After a long moment of mutual comfort, you pull back with a sigh.

“We should get moving,” you remind him.

V stands, offering a hand to you with a tender smile. The two of you step forward together, hand in hand as you continue your search for the legendary sword of Sparda.

________________

For the next few minutes, nothing worse than an Antenora disturbs your progress. You follow V through a creepy mausoleum, letting Griffon help you down a huge hole in the floor and continue further through the strange area. At one point, you face a new foe that reminds you of the Greek trio of sisters called the Fates; the legend of their scissors cutting the threads of a person’s life to sever their hold on life is an uncomfortable thought as V makes quick work of the shadowy, masked demons using Nightmare.

You and V pass through yet more labyrinthian pathways, navigating gradually closer to the energy he can somehow sense nearby in silence. You’re about to enter another courtyard as he finally speaks.

“This presence… it’s the devil sword Sparda, no doubt about it,” he comments quietly. You squeeze his hand where it still holds your own and step into the open area to see three strange demons.

At first, they look like humans bent over in some demented form of a crab walk, but all four of their limbs end in hands. They feature an extra limb, extending out of their backs to form a massive clawed hand, holding a green totem. Their bodies are hideous, bones and bloody flesh exposed to the open air as they dance haphazardly in a pool of blood. V twitches his wrist and Griffon appears over his shoulder in a burst of black shards, already commenting rudely on the sight before you.

“Whoa this is some kind of ritual shindig, isn't it? You guys got the dance fever for Sparda, huh?” he caws at the three strange creatures. They turn to face your group, taking a few threatening steps toward you with an off-putting howling sound. You shudder as Griffon speaks again, drawing your sword in preparation for the coming fight.

“Whoa, easy there on the dance floor there, partner,” the bird adds, seeming almost frightened.

V turns, raising his cane to point at a handle sticking out of the building beside you.

“I’ll be taking that back,” he growls, turning to face the demons again as he continues, tapping his cane against his palm thoughtfully. “You know your endless worshipping isn’t making the Sparda any happier.”

V darts forward, snapping his fingers as his feet carry him into the center of the demons. Nightmare’s comet descends in a fiery, smoking ball of death to strike one of the three demons heavily, the golem forming soon after in a splash of black. Griffon and Shadow attack, V having summoned the panther while you weren’t looking, their lightning and claws striking true against the closest foe.

You twirl your blade, getting your wrist ready for battle as one of the beasts advances toward you. It’s even more disturbing up close, its face a mask and its body a thrashed wreck of bone and muscle. You hold your sword in a guard position, determined to fight defensively until you get the measure of this new enemy. It leaps forward in a burst of motion, its various limbs all coming forward to strike you. You duck and roll, only one of its limbs managing to land a shallow scratch on your arm as you dodge.

You rise to your feet again as the demon advances, holding your sword defensively. Before it can leap again, you sprint at it and slice through its extra limb, severing it with a splash of crimson that paints the air. The creature howls as its arm hits the ground, rising to two hands to use the others to attack you. You block one hand and try to dodge the second, but it still catches you on your upper thigh, leaving another small cut behind.

_I’ve been lucky so far that none of these hits have been too deep…_

_Got to be careful._

You circle the creature warily, watching its every move. Its muscles bunch as it prepares another leap, and as it comes at you your sword extends right in its path. It doesn’t have time to adjust its course and your blade sinks into its core. Its hands feebly reach toward you as it twitches, the limbs shorter than the blade and unable to touch you as it dissolves into ash.

_One down._

You survey the fight to see that V is on the last demon, gleefully smacking it with his cane repeatedly. It makes a sound like glass breaking every time it strikes true. He smirks as he finishes with a harsh overhead blow, pinning it to the ground as he grinds the sharp edge of the cane into its head, making the ghastly thing dissolve.

You rejoin V just as he glances at the blade embedded in the stone building, his eyes following the structure to a bulging red mass; a root waiting to be destroyed. He thrusts his cane into the mass with a low grunt, using all his weight to push it in further as it gushes blood. He withdraws the silver cane with another grunt, turning back to face the root as it turns grey and shatters, a shard of it striking the building and knocking the sword to the ground nearby.  

You follow V to where the sword lies amongst the rubble as the dust settles, a few small bits of stone sitting atop its massive blade. The sword looks heavy, far too heavy for one person to life alone. If you and V want to take it with you, you’ll have to carry it together.

V steps forward, his long arms reaching to grasp the hilt. He grits his teeth, letting out a low grunt of exertion as he struggles to lift the blade. He manages to get it a few inches off the ground, but promptly drops it again with a disappointed sigh.

 **“** It seems this sword is still too strong for me...” he murmurs sorrowfully.  

_It must mean a lot to him, to not be able to lift it._

**“** So close, though, so close. You got a lot of heart, kid, you really do, but you're a bit of a sissy in the strength department. Hey, hey, no offense, uh, you know,” Griffon adds unhelpfully, circling the group above.

 **“** Nero... he has the strength,” V responds, seemingly ignoring Griffon’s rude commentary entirely as the wheels within his mind whirl away.

“We’ll have to bring him here, then. How could we even begin to bring it with us?” you speculate thoughtfully. Shadow’s emphatic roar draws your attention; she’s standing on the edge of the cliff and looking down below. She turns her head to look at V in a clear command for him to look for himself. He heaves the sword off the ground again and drags it behind him as he joins the panther. You follow as well, curiosity and unease prickling your skin.

For a long moment, you aren’t sure what you should be seeing. All you perceive is more of the same rubble and detritus you’ve gotten accustomed to since the Qlipoth struck. But ever so slowly, you see a human form resting on a statue, covered in dried blood.

_Is that… a **person**?_

**“** Dante...” V growls beside you.  

_Wait… **that’s** Dante? He looks like shit! Is he even alive?_

V sends Shadow and Griffon down to the prone body and together they drag and carry him up the rise to rest near where the sword lies. Griffon circles overhead excitedly as you check for a pulse and find it beating powerfully beneath your fingers.

“Oh my god… He’s got a pulse! He’s _alive_!” you exclaim in astonishment.

“I don't even have the words. I--He's alive, he's alive!” Griffon adds, his own shock obvious. It’s V who figures it out first, his mind easily sliding the various puzzle pieces together to form an image of how Dante had somehow not been found for a month.

“The devil sword Sparda was concealing Dante's presence,” he informs the group tiredly.

“How does one friggin' guy get so much luck, huh!?” Griffon chimes in. You carefully watch V’s face, knowing he must be struggling with having found his hated brother alive.

If you hadn’t been paying attention or known V so well you would’ve missed the look of unrestrained fury that crosses his features as he throws his cane down scornfully and lifts the Sparda, dragging it to where Dante lies helpless with you still feeling his pulse.

_Oh no… no, V, come on!_

Griffon seems to follow your thoughts and flaps nervously nearby as he tries to reason with the lean poet. “Uhh, V? No no no, get a grip on yourself now, c'mon!”

“V, don’t do this! Murdering your brother won’t make you stronger – if anything it’ll probably make _Urizen_ stronger!” you cry out desperately, but V ignores both you and Griffon and steps ever closer to his prone kin.

“If only you could defeat Urizen... if only... no,” he mutters to himself, apparently having forgotten anyone else was here. You stand and try to figure out a way to restrain V without hurting him, just until he calms down.

“V? No no no...” Griffon caws anxiously.

“V, come on! This is _madness_ , you said it yourself that Dante is the strongest devil hunter around! We might need him to win this!” you insist angrily, your fists balled at your sides.

“If only you never existed... then I....!” V takes no notice of your words, instead lifting the blade as best he can. The point dangles just above Dante’s closed eyes and you reach out to shove it away as V plunges it down.

“Don't do it V! No no NO!” Griffon pleads helplessly from above.

Your hand strikes true, forcing the blade off course so it strikes a few inches away from Dante’s face. You can feel the intensity of V’s glare as he begins to raise it once more, but to your utter bewilderment, _Dante opens his eyes!_

V drops the sword and you lower your hand quickly as Dante sits up with a quizzical look.

“For a second there, I thought you were gonna shish kabob me,” the man comments. His voice is a pleasantly masculine rumble, but nowhere near as low as V’s. The poet himself sits down, seeming to realize what he’d almost just done, struggling to catch his breath as he grapples with his own murderous rage.

“I know how stubborn you can be. I thought it'd be the only way to wake you,” the tattooed love of your life replies ruefully.

_That’s a lie! You would’ve killed him if I hadn’t been here!_

 “What day is it?” Dante asks, running his hands through his bloody hair and trying to get some of it off with a grimace.

“The 15th... of June,” V responds haltingly, as if that might lessen the blow. To your surprise, Dante seems unconcerned by the fact that he’s been unconscious for so long.

“A whole month? No wonder I'm so stiff,” the absurd man jokes, standing and stretching. He finally seems to notice your presence and freezes, a sly grin edging its way onto his face as he takes in your appearance.

“Well, _hello_ there… My name’s Dante, what should I call _you_ , aside from _beautiful_?”

For a long moment there’s complete silence as your eyes widen at his flirtation.

_Is he… **serious**?_

Griffon laughs uproariously from above at the ridiculousness of the moment, not saying a word so as not to spoil his entertainment. You’re so caught off guard you don’t react as Dante takes your hand in his and raises it to his lips to kiss your knuckles, as if he were some kind of gentleman in the 1700’s.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I don’t bite. Unless you’re into that kinda thing, _then_ I’ll bite whenever you like,” he adds with a roguish grin.

V steps forward and the look on his face is a flat mask of hidden rage that only you know him well enough to see. You pull your hand out of Dante’s grasp as if he had electrocuted you, reaching out to extend your arm in the poet’s path, keeping him a few feet back from Dante.

“Her _name_ is Y/N, and you will not touch her again,” the poet whispers carefully, his fury hidden behind a tight seal. If the situation was less strained you might be pleased by his possessiveness, maybe even a little turned on, but this is not the time.

Dante glances between the two of you and for a moment you think he’s caught on.

Then he opens his mouth.

“What, is she your _sister_? That’s real sweet, but don’t you think she should make her own choices?”

_Oh, for god’s sake…_

You glance at V, but the only outward reaction is a tiny narrowing of his eyes. The lack of response is somehow worse than if he’d summoned Nightmare to beat some sense into Dante. Before V has a chance to respond, you take his hand in yours, twining your fingers together and you hold your joined hands out to show Dante.

“I’m not his sister. And I’ve _made_ my choice, thank you very much,” you inform the idiot in front of you politely. V smirks beside you, pulling your knuckles to his full lips for a _much_ more welcome gentlemanly kiss.

“You tell him, little lady!” Griffon cries from above, still chuckling in enjoyment.

Dante’s face shifts with slow realization and he grins again teasingly. You grip V’s hand tightly, crushing his fingers between yours as the man in red puts his foot in his mouth _yet again._

“Ah, well, if you ever want to try some grade-A beef, you lemme know!”

_Alright, that’s it!_

You look right into Dante’s eyes and give him a wide grin, letting him think he’s scored a point before ripping the rug out from under his feet with six simple words.

“V _is_ grade-A beef, thanks,” you inform him calmly. A glance at V shows the deepest smirk you’ve ever seen on his face, his satisfaction and pride from your words as obvious as the sun on a cloudless morning. Dante chuckles, then laughs outright.

“Oh, I _like_ this one, V! You sure you can handle such a fiery woman?”

“It has been my pleasure to _‘handle’_ her,” V replies in a low purr, using the tone he saves just for you, just for when your naked flesh is joined with his in ecstasy. It sends a thrill rushing through you, a low pool of heat settling in your stomach.

Dante laughs once more and turns around to stretch, throwing a few punches that remind you of Nero as he bobs and weaves. Suddenly V tugs you into his chest, leaning down to plant his lips on yours with a low growl. His tongue skillfully dips into your mouth, teasing you mercilessly in a wordless promise as his hands rise to hold your face against his. He presses his hips against yours, letting you feel his hardness and pulls away, briefly tugging your lower lip on his way.

You give him a light swat on his ass as Griffon chimes in, flying over to hover near Dante.

 **“** Right, sunshine, now put a fire on it. We gotta get going, 'cause that annoying pimple Nero is making a beeline for Urizen. And if he gets there he's gonna—”

Dante’s red-clad arm shoots out, his hand wrapping around Griffon’s beak and throwing him to the side nonchalantly as the blue demon finishes his sentence.

“Smashed like a buuuuuuug!!!” his gravely voice concludes as it grows farther away.

Dante turns back to face you and V wearing a grimace. “Hey! This is my gig. Leave Nero out of this,” he commands, throwing his arm out to the side to emphasize his words.

“If you could defeat Urizen... then I never would have dreamed of it. But Urizen... is much stronger than we could have imagined,” V replies regretfully, stepping away from you and reaching down with a small grunt to pick up his cane.

“Alright, enough's enough. Can't let a boy do a man's job,” Dante answers back, easily picking up the Sparda. Your eyes go wide at his lazy motion as he rests the weight on his shoulder and starts walking away.

“Hey! I'm not done talking to you ye-“ V begins, but he crumples to the ground. You rush to his side and help him sit up as Dante turns back with a strange look on his face.

“OK. You get some rest. By the way, I guess I owe you one,” the brash hunter concludes as he leaves you and V alone once more.

You watch in mind-numbing horror as he lifts his hand up and a few flesh colored particles float away in the breeze.  His beautiful eyes meet yours and settle in an expression of defeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Dante... Never a dull moment when he's around.
> 
> Please let me know what you guys thought of Vergil's memories. I tried to make it unique but if I accidentally mirrored someone else's work PLEASE TELL ME! Thank you <3
> 
> Today's soundtrack - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-yOZEiHLuVU (I love OST's for writing, don't ask me why)
> 
> As always, my heartfelt gratitude and love to you for reading, leaving kudos, and for leaving me a few words. I delight in chatting with you all, it's my favorite thing about posting here, so please don't be shy!
> 
> Next chapter - we deal with V's flaky skin issue and all the ramifications of it.


	27. Agony and Ecstasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my wonderful readers! Hope you're ready for a roller coaster today. This chapter has a little of everything...
> 
> *******THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW********
> 
> Happy reading!

June 15th, 11:14 am

V’s emerald eyes are shadowed, downcast in defeat as he watches tiny fragments of his body float away in the wind, signifying his mortality in an impossible to ignore fashion. For a moment, you can’t comprehend what you’re seeing. The cracks in his skin were one thing, but this? You don’t _have_ a medical term to describe what’s happening to the man you love. He sighs heavily, his shoulders sagging as he reverts to his previous cold acceptance of his fate.

“No, no _no_ don’t you do that! Don’t you give up on me!” you cry out, only to see his lips twist into a sad, accepting smile. You pull him into your arms, stroking his back and his hair.

_No, no, no this can’t be happening!_

An icy chain wraps itself around your heart, squeezing it harshly in your rib cage as you feel it crack under the pressure. The unfairness of life has been a constant theme for you, yet this is the cruelest stroke of all. V trembles weakly in your arms as your tears stream down your cheeks, your hiccupping breath stuttering in your pained chest as you replay the moment endlessly. The image of his beautiful fingertips, tiny flakes of his body carried away in the heartless breeze as if he were so much dust.

_Maybe I can fix it? Maybe I can heal him?_

You pull his lips to yours for a desperate kiss, tasting the salt of your own tears as you attempt to convey how much you love this man through the motion of your lips alone.

_Please, God, in whatever form you actually are, please save him! I’ll do anything, give anything you ask! I’ll pay any toll for his life!_

The void doesn’t answer. It never will.

Your lips tremble against his, your jaw vibrating from the strength of your stifled sobs. His arms wrap around you in a delicate embrace, his tattooed hands stroking your spine warmly. His mouth on yours is a chorus of movement both achingly wonderful and maddeningly terrible because you know you may have very few chances to kiss him remaining.

_Don’t think like that, Y/N! He’s going to be fine; he has to!_

He sighs softly into your lips, his shaking hands coming up to stroke your face tenderly, as if he’s trying to memorize the sensation. You pull back at the thought to stare into his emerald eyes, seeing the pain and fear he’s feeling in the dark shadows within. The utter despair in his expressive eyes breaks you even further, the crack in your heart widening into a chasm. You pull him closer, laying your head in the crux of his shoulder and letting his familiar scent comfort you.

_Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me…_

“I’ll try,” he whispers hoarsely, and you realize you must have vocalized the thought without meaning to. You lean away to look at his hand again – there aren’t any more specks floating away but it obviously hadn’t recovered, small cracks running through his previously smooth skin amongst the dark lines of ink. You caress the crevasses, feeling for yourself how deep they run, and your heart splits in half.

“It doesn’t hurt,” V tells you in surprise. You hadn’t even considered that, too focused on the ramifications of the decay of his flesh to imagine how it might feel from his perspective.

_What would it feel like to know your body is fading away?_

_I hope I never find out for myself._

“I think… I think I can continue,” V informs you hesitantly. “We should try to catch up to Dante.”

“But… V, you should try to rest first,” you begin.

“You know why I cannot, why I must keep going, no matter the state my body is in,” he replies with a morose shake of his head, his obsidian hair shining in the light.

_Yes, I know… that doesn’t mean I agree!_

“We are running out of time. The Qlipoth is almost fully grown; the fruit will appear within the next day unless we can stop it before then,” he continues, panting slightly as he struggles to stand, using his cane for what seems like the first time in days. You sigh in surrender, quickly pulling a protein bar from your bag and handing it to him with a teary smile.

“At least eat while we go, my poet. For me?” you beg him quietly. He smirks and unwraps the bar, taking a small bite as he steps forward.

________________

June 15th, 11:27 am

V

Following Dante isn’t difficult. The man leaves a trail of broken scenery behind like a tidal wave, fresh scratches on the ground testifying to his battles. V can still smell ash in the air occasionally, the last remnants of the demons defeated by his brother.

 _Catching up_ to him, however, proves a challenge. Since his hand began to crumble, V has felt a massive shift in his energy. He is forced to use his cane with nearly every step, a sign of his growing weakness that makes his jaw clench in frustration as he limps forward doggedly, your sorrowful gaze tracking him worriedly.

_I cannot stop now, not when so much is at stake._

His dreary thoughts are a plague he can’t escape, an itch that resists all attempts at scratching. His very bones are weary, so tired of this inexorable trudge toward death that despite your best efforts, he knows you cannot save him from.

_I’m sorry, little fox. I’m so sorry for what this will do to you. I can’t help but wish you had walked away that day, never decided to join us on this doomed quest._

A pulse of agony rips through him, searing his every nerve in excruciating pain. He falls to his knees, cane clattering as he drops it to grip his head in his hands, lightning bolts arching through his neurons within his aching skull. Shards of glass rip his throat to shreds, knives sinking into his kidneys and stomach and twisting cruelly. He can feel the flames that burned his mother’s corpse into ash licking his skin, the heat burning him alive as he finally hits the pebble strewn ground. His very blood burns like acid in his veins as he curls inward, instinctively moving to protect his core from the invisible foe that is the source of his tormented screaming.

_Make it stop! Make it stop, make it stop makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop…._

He can no longer see the devastated cityscape surrounding you on all sides, can no longer smell the burning refuse or the rotting garbage. He can no longer hear the wind rushing by, or your voice desperately screaming his name in panic. His existence narrows to only pain, all of his senses completely overwhelmed in the horrors of its ferocity. He cannot even string together a coherent sentence in his mind, his mental processes shattered and mutilated beyond recognition.

Minutes that feel like centuries pass before he hears your voice from somewhere far too distant. He mentally latches on to it, clinging to the sound as if it were a parachute and he were falling from the sky. His pain fades incrementally, _brutally_ slowly as he focuses on your voice and drags his consciousness back from where it had retreated from the agony.

Shame fills his incoherent mind as he regains awareness, finding himself cradled in your arms protectively. His convulsing body stills as your gentle hands stroke his hair, voice murmuring reassurances and comfort as he presses himself closer to you.

_So weak, so powerless. I would not have made it this far alone._

**Holy fuck, V! What the hell just happened?!**

_…did you feel it too?_

**An echo, not like you did… We all got a taste. You okay?**

_…I don’t know. I think I’m dying._

**Shit.**

“V? Can you hear me?” your anxious voice questions him. He licks his lips to speak, only to find the words catch in his aching throat, his vocal cords refusing to function in protest of their abuse. He nods instead.

“Can you speak?” you probe softly, and he shakes his head.

“Okay… I’m going to lie you flat and examine you,” you inform him, and he nods again as you scoot back from him, helping his limbs into a position of neutrality. By now his nerves have stopped their spasming and he can feel your touch, feel your careful hands slide up and down his body searching for injuries. After a moment, you lean back with a satisfied smile.

“Nothing external at least. Can you talk yet?”

“I… think so… hurts,” V gasps out through his overworked throat.

“Do you want to try standing or wait a little?” you ask him, brow furrowed slightly.

“Try,” he rasps out. You hand him his cane and crouch nearby, ready to catch him if he needs it. As much as he appreciates the support, he can’t help but also feel irritated by it and its necessity.

_If only I was stronger…_

He gets to his hands and knees easily enough, then braces his weight on the cane and pushes, bringing himself into a low crouch. Its uncomfortable, but bearable. He rises further, coming to a full standing position carefully. He takes a few steps cautiously, your arms still awaiting his fall, but he manages to not even stumble. You drop your hands with an apologetic smile, and he forces himself to smile gratefully back, despite his frustrations.  At long last, the pair of you are able to resume your trek, albeit much slower for the time being.

Even with your slow speed, you manage to find Dante not too much farther ahead. There’s a blonde woman lying on the ground near him.

_Trish?_

“Dante!” V calls out, breaking into a full run and desperately trying to get the man’s attention.

_There’s so much I must tell him…_

But Dante turns away, mounting a motorcycle and barely bothering to send a few more words his way before dashing off. “Take care of Trish for me!”

“Dante, wait!” V exclaims uselessly, and he falls to the ground once more.

_Dammit… always so weak._

In an act of desperation, he commands Griffon to accompany the legendary devil hunter, the blue bird flapping mightily and easily catching up to the speeding motorcycle.

V tries to stand on his own but only falls again. It isn’t until you come to help him that he’s able to rise fully. He angrily chooses a chunk of rubble to sit on, easily able to keep an eye on Trish as she sleeps. He pulls out his book of poetry to try and calm his anxious mind, try to stop thinking about his own death, as you sit beside him with a small smile, taking his unoccupied hand and stroking his fingers gently.

________________

June 15th 11:40am

You sit beside V, his hand in yours as he reads quietly. Your mind is racing, wondering if you missed something with your theory. Wondering what more can possibly be done to save V, or if your theory is even right.

_What if it’s wrong? What if he still dies?_

You clench his hand in yours tightly, mentally swearing to not let that happen. No matter the cost, you will save V. You have to.

“When Trish wakes, I’m going to tell her everything. She may have better luck in telling Dante than I have thus far,” the lean poet comments suddenly. You hum in acknowledgment, glad that he’s becoming more and more willing to tell the truth of his origin. You hear a quiet sigh and look down to see Trish’s eyes have opened at last. She sits up carefully, holding the blanket covering her nude form in place as she looks around.

“Dante’s left,” she states, her voice unexpectedly soothing.

“Yes… and I don’t think he can win,” V comments back, turning the page in his book.

“What was that demon, V? Where did it come from? Urizen is not a demon. I know for a fact, because I'm from the Underworld,” the blonde woman adds. V doesn’t respond, instead turning the page again with a smirk.

“Oh my god... what are you then?” Trish asks V fearfully, and he closes his book at last to face her and address her directly. Her eyes shift to you curiously for an instant before V speaks and her attention is drawn back to the poet.

 **“** It doesn't matter. I'm a shadow of my former self who lost everything. I will tell you... the story of my birth,” he murmurs softly. You squeeze his hand in a silent show of support as he once again tells his story, voice catching here and there as he describes the moments before his creation and the minutes afterward of sheer terror.

Trish takes it all in stride, her expression barely shifting throughout the telling. She’s an especially difficult person to read, a think outer shell of armor protecting her innermost thoughts from casual observation. You can respect that, even as you find it incessantly annoying.

“I've tried to hold together my crumbling flesh with whatever demonic power I have left, but... I'm approaching my limit. In separating and regaining my human soul, I've realized the gravity of the crime I've committed,” V concludes slowly, his emerald gaze glancing at you as he utters the next few words in a near whisper.  

“I've realized how important everything was... everything I've thrown away in my pursuit for _power_.”

Finally, the poet is silent, his tale told and his secrets bared. Trish simply gazes at the pair of you, an unreadable expression still holding court over her features.

“Is that why you went to find Dante?” she asks.

“Yes. Foolish. I thought maybe he could change... maybe fix... maybe right my wrong. Tell me... was this fool before you right?”

Trish stands, the blanket covering her naked body somehow morphing into a black leather ensemble that makes you blush with all it reveals. She turns and starts walking past you and V, heading toward the Qlipoth.

“I'm not your mommy, V. You're a big boy. And you need to see this through. Dante's war,” she tells him in a scolding tone, sounding very much like a mother reprimanding her child. V grimaces in pain as he rises to his feet and steps forward to follow her.

_Fuck that._

“V, either you sit back down on your own or I’ll force you. You’re going to rest for a few more minutes whether you like it or not,” you command the poet. He turns to face you, protests already forming on his lips, but you glare at him as threateningly as you can while you cross your arms until he swallows the words. He sighs but obediently sits back down beside you with a smirk.

“I suppose I’m not strong enough to stop you at the moment anyway,” he comments dryly. You take the chance to give him a bottle of water and another protein bar, watching him chew slowly beside you lost in thought. His lighter tattoos look strange to you, Griffon’s absence an empty void hanging in the air.

“Can you talk to Griffon right now?” you ask him curiously, wondering how strong the bond between them has become. He closes his eyes in concentration for a moment before clenching his jaw and shaking his head in frustration.

“I can tell he’s with Dante, see flashes of a house… but I can’t seem to communicate,” he murmurs between bites. Your mind continues its pondering, examining all you know about Urizen and V in an anxious search for answers.

_I don’t know what else to do…_

You lean against the poet beside you, careful not to force him to support too much weight in his weakened state. You feel his hand rise to wrap around your shoulders and pull you closer and you succumb to his desires and lay your head in his lap. He strokes your hair, your cheek, your lips. Memorizing your face.

_Damnit, stop doing that!_

You glare up at him, anger tinting your words. “V, we can’t give up yet. Please, keep fighting it, keep fighting for who you’ve become. Fight for our future together,” you urge him. He can barely meet your pleading eyes as he sighs heavily, his hand pausing its exploration at your jawline.

“It doesn’t seem to be working, little fox,” he reminds you softly, his eyes mournful as he meets yours.

You brush his hand away and sit up, reaching out to turn his face to yours once more as you sit beside him. Determination and stubbornness color your voice as you respond, your intense glare forcing him to accept what you say as truth.

“You don’t know that. There could be all sorts of reasons you’re still weakening. We’re closer to Urizen than we’ve been in weeks, you’re older now than you were last time you faced him, maybe Dante waking up did something… The point is, we _can’t_ know if it’s failing. We won’t know until Urizen is dead. But as long as there’s even a _shred_ of hope left, we have to keep trying. _You_ have to keep trying. Because _goddamnit_ V, I’ll go after Vergil myself if you merge. I’ll drag you back out kicking and screaming if I have to. _I refuse to let you go,”_ you inform him passionately.

V smirks, looking down for a moment as he absorbs your monologue. After a beat, he carefully turns his body to face yours and pulls you against him, crushing your form against his. You can feel his racing heartbeat, feel the heat radiating off his skin as he embraces you.

 _“Thank you, little fox,”_ he whispers into your hair.

________________

June 15th, 11:52 am

V

V limps quietly alongside you, your hand grasping his carefully. The Qlipoth ahead is taller than ever, reaching high above the clouds in its daunting height. The grey patchwork structure is impossible to ignore, a now constant backdrop to both his innermost thoughts and the landscape surrounding him. He reflects on your words as you slowly move forward, trying not to focus on how his failing body is preventing you from reaching the tree at a reasonable rate.

Your stubbornness and love, your passion and conviction… it had startled him. Even as the fear of death, of losing this chance at a future threatens to consume him entirely, your presence has helped keep him from tumbling over the abyss into hopelessness. Kept him from surrendering to his fate entirely.

There’s still doubt plaguing his mind, still anxiety tugging at his thoughts. Yet he now refuses to ignore the thin tendril of hope that’s grown miraculously within the garden of his terror. Grown only from your attention.

_Perhaps a little from my friends as well, but mainly Y/N. I wouldn’t even consider them friends if not for her._

_She has utterly changed the course of my life._

Sudden terror grips him as Griffon panics over something Dante is doing. He stops in his tracks, trying to focus on the hazy image he can barely see in his mind, too diluted by distance to have much meaning. You look at him quizzically, your steps halting to stand beside him.

“Griffon… Something’s happened with Dante,” he rumbles. Your eyes color with nervousness as he focuses as hard as he can on the image. Blurred shapes flash into a defined form for an instant before the haze obstructs them again, but he can see Dante standing before a portrait of the entire family, a blade embedded in his chest.

_Not again…_

He waits for a moment, then focuses his energy again on the image. He watches in awe as Dante transforms, his body absorbing the blade within and using its power to fuel his new appearance. A stronger version of his devil form, power radiating off his crimson flesh in waves of heat.

The image dissolves as Griffon’s panic vanishes, and V can’t help the wry grin from crossing his face.

_Only Dante…_

“What happened, V?” your shaky voice asks. He smirks at you as he answers.

“Dante has absorbed the Sparda. The reckless fool _stabbed_ himself. He has grown stronger, perhaps strong enough to _win_ ,” he ruefully states. He chuckles, bitterly amused at his brother’s ability to gather strength and how it mirrors his own decline. Always opposites, the two of them.

“Really? So… you might not even need to fight Urizen?” you probe hopefully. He shakes his head, refusing to miss the final fight.

“I must be there, must witness Urizen’s destruction myself no matter who strikes the blow,” he answers determinedly.

“Would it be dangerous to do it? To kill Urizen?” you thoughtfully ask him. He pauses, not having fully considered it.

_I suppose it could be dangerous. I have no idea what will happen to his body._

“It may be. I cannot even begin to guess what will become of his remains. He may have even set a trap for anyone who dares to strike him,” V pronounces with a slight frown. He watches your face carefully, suspicion growing in his mind as your features shift from curiosity to resolve.

“Then I should be the one to do it,” you state boldly, and his heart skips a beat.

_No, no no little fox! You can’t be serious!_

As if you had read his racing thoughts, you smile at him tenderly and elaborate.

“If it is dangerous, how much more hope and fear would fill you if I was the one taking the risk? If I was the one who could get hurt?”

He grimaces, already knowing the truth of your words yet refusing to accept the risks. You _had_ to be safe, you _had_ to survive. Even if he was doomed, he absolutely would not under any circumstances drag you down with him. Unthinkable.

“Irrelevant. It will not be you, I won’t allow it,” he forcefully pronounces. You only smile wider, reaching out to stroke his cheek tenderly.

“V… the whole idea about keeping you alive functions on you experiencing as much emotion as possible. As arrogant as it feels to say it, I’m the one you care about the most. Seeing me strike down Urizen… watching me walk up to him… you can’t deny how it would make you feel. It might be the final key, the last shred of humanity that saves you,” you explain carefully.

_I know she’s right, but I cannot allow this!_

“The risk is too great. Let Nero do it, or Dante,” he miserably begs you.

You shake your head, your hair catching the light beautifully.

“You care about Nero, true, but he’s only a friend. And you _hate_ Dante, you’d be _happy_ to see him fall. It _has_ to be me,” you declare. “V, at this point, how could you even stop me? This is my decision to make, so you can either help me save you or fight me and lose anyway.”

_Damn. She’s right, I couldn’t stop her even if I tried. I’m too weak, always too weak._

He presses his forehead to yours, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. It goes against every fiber of his being, every single one of his protective instincts screaming in his mind to not even consider letting you do this.

But he has no choice.

He cannot fight you.

“I don’t like it, not one bit. But you have a point. Just… _promise_ me you’ll be careful?” he begs you, surrendering to your will at last. You nod, your lovely eyes lighting up happily at his agreement.

“I promise. Thank you, my poet,” you murmur gratefully, and then you close the gap to kiss him lovingly. His tongue darts out to taste you, craving your unique flavor. A surge of lust overtakes him as you open to his attentions, his arms pulling you against him forcefully as his blood thunders in his ears. He wants you, _all_ of you. He wants to consume you and never let you go. You are _his_ , now and always, and he desperately craves the chance to claim you once again.

V doesn’t care that you’re in the middle of a street. Doesn’t care that there’s chunks of stonework and broken buildings surrounding you. Doesn’t care that the only remotely clean or flat surface is a small portion of sidewalk. He tugs you toward it, easily stripping off his vest as he goes. Your mouth pops open in surprise but you don’t fight him as he carefully lowers you onto the pavement, using his vest as a pillow so your head doesn’t lie on the cold ground.

“Really, V? _Here?”_ you whisper. He grins ferally, his hands already working at your top as he growls his response.

“Yes.”

You blush deeply, eyes darting around the area to check for other witnesses to your carnal pleasures. You find not a single soul, as he knew you would, and seem to settle as he pulls your shirt over your head.

“You are _mine_ , little fox,” he murmurs lustily, and his mouth descends to decorate your bare chest with kisses and bites. You wrap your arms around him, but he tuts. He pulls back and looks you in the eyes.

“If you want me to stop, say ‘juniper’, yes?” he instructs you and another powerful bolt of heat rips through him as he sees your swollen lips stretch into a hungry smile, your glazed eyes narrowing as you nod forcefully. He descends upon your form once more, his arms moving to pin yours at your sides so you’re helpless to his actions. He needs to feel powerful, feel in control even though he would never force you.

He grins darkly as your hands, pinned to your sides, drift to your waist to open your belt. You release him as well, clumsily baring you both to the chilly air. A wicked smile twists his lips as he has a sudden idea, and he rises, pulling his pants up enough so they don’t trip him as he pulls you up. He plants his lips on yours again instantly, his tongue ravaging your mouth passionately as he backs you against a small sedan nearby. You gasp as the back of your legs hit the metal, another exhalation escaping you as he grips your hips and flips you face down.

He drops his pants again, working himself out of his briefs as you extend your arms out on the hood of the brown car, the dust already showing where your body has touched it. The sight pleases him immensely.

“Good girl, always so obedient for me,” he rumbles, his long fingers parting your legs easily as you whimper in desire. He tears your panties away forcefully, a small ripping sound accompanying the motion as he flings them away dismissively.

“Yes, I’m a good girl for you V. Show me how good I’ve been,” you whine as he drags a single digit through your slick folds.

“Hmm. You’ve also been very naughty, my little fox. I aught to _punish_ your _misbehaving_ ,” he growls in response, using the tone he knows you can’t resist. You moan, the sound starting a fire in his belly and making him bare his teeth in a wolfish smile.

He raises a hand and smacks your bare ass, leaving a delightful red mark behind in his wake as you squeal. He listens carefully for a moment, in case you need him to stop, but only hears your ragged breathing. He smacks your ass again, another red mark joining the first as you groan.

“Please, V... _please_ … I need you,” you beg, and a heady rush of power fills him.

“Not yet, love. I’m not done punishing you yet,” he groans back with a smirk. He takes a moment to enjoy the view, your arms outstretched and trying to find purchase against the smooth metal of the brown vehicle beneath you, your legs parted and shaking slightly in your excitement. Two red marks on your round ass where he’s marked you as _his_. He adds one more mark with a final smack, making you gasp amidst your staccato breaths.

“Now, for your _reward_ ,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear. He delights in the way you shift your hips, angling yourself for his ease.

_Not yet…_

He strokes himself a few times, satiating his own needs just enough to focus his mind as he slides a finger inside you. A delicious moan reaches his ears from your parted lips and he curls his digit just the way he knows you like it. The way you breathe his name jolts him, the low fire in his belly becoming a raging inferno as he feels your wetness. He withdraws his finger and steps forward at long last, his hands gripping your hips in a bruising grip.

“ _Such_ a good little fox…”  he rumbles and slowly presses his hips forward. His eyes flutter closed as his head breaches you, the tight tunnel welcoming him home like a lost pet. His own moan joins in with yours as you clench around him, the slick fluids allowing him to inch his way further inside at a pace that would make a snail impatient.

His hips finally become flush with your ass as he sheathes himself fully. One of his hands moves from your quaking hip to fist in your hair, pulling your head up so he can see the blissful expression on your face. He holds your head there as he pulls away, your brows furrowing as you bite your lower lip. He bucks forward again, reveling in the sharp gasp that escapes your lips as you are suddenly filled again.

He releases your head, laying his hand on your spine and holding you against the cold metal as he thrusts voraciously, his panting breath echoing your own. You do your best to angle your hips to meet his, clearly desperate for friction on your tiny bundle of nerves.

“You’re being _so_ good, you deserve a reward,” he gasps out and the hand still on your hip descends, finding its way between your thighs and stroking your clit the way he knows you like. Your cries elevate his feeling of dominance even further, still not uttering the word he’d told you before he began. He feels you approaching your peak, your body sending him all the signals he needs. He stills his fingers and his hips, leaving you panting and wriggling in frustration beneath him.

“Did I say you could come yet, love?” he rumbles, leaning closer to your ear to ensure you can hear him.

Your face says it all – he has total control over you as you willingly surrender to his will and still your hips.

“Good girl,” he growls, standing tall once more and resuming his ferocious pounding. The dust under your form mixes with your sweat, a watery mess coating your front as he molds you to his desires. He can’t help the long moan that sounds from him as you find your rhythm together, the wet slapping of flesh marking your union audibly.

He’s close now, he can feel it.

_I want to feel her come with me._

He resumes his little touches, bringing you just to the edge to join him. With a final shout, he rubs the spot that he knows will send you over, your clenching walls and signature orgasmic moan rewarding his intimate knowledge of your body as his stuttering hips clench, his own pleasure pulsing between his legs within you. His skin prickles, his vision flashing with color as the high of release fills his consciousness.

His blood pounds in his veins as he comes to a stop, spent. The two of you both pant heavily as you catch your breath, the exertion such a wonderful strain on your lungs. His hands leave your body as he stands and pulls away with a slight squelch, your mixed fluids spilling out of you as he joins you on the hood, laying down and meeting your half-lidded gaze.

A long moment passes of the two of you simply staring at each other, reveling in ecstasy.

“I love you,” V finally murmurs, and you smile that smile he so adores, lips twisting to perfectly display your teeth in an expression of utter joy.

“I love you, too,” you whisper back, and his own joyful smile matches yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed V being in charge. I'm not naturally dominant, so this was a tough one to write. 
> 
> We're getting so close to crunch time, you guys! Ah, I'm so excited! 
> 
> As always, you beautiful people touch my heart by reading, leaving kudos, and most of all by commenting. It feeds my hungry soul to get that email saying I have a new comment. 
> 
> Next chapter - we enter the Qlipoth.


	28. Last Glimpse of Sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday, everyone! I added the final touches to this section after work and didn't want to wait any longer to post it. So this is substantially shorter than usual, buuuuut... oh well. 
> 
> Hey look, no warnings today! Enjoy!

June 15th, 12:00 pm

A cacophonous rumble breaks your stride as you and V trek through a park after your… _break_. Instantly you both look at the Qlipoth to watch in horror as it grows suddenly, massive chunks of roads and buildings mysteriously floating skyward as its spiny branches reach above the clouds and into space.

“We’re almost out of time,” V mutters morosely.

The shaking earth prevents you from answering as you're forced to take off running, the stable path you’d been walking crumbling away into a chasm. V falls behind quickly to your dismay, and you slow just enough to keep him close.

Even so, you’re separated when the ground you stand on rises as the terrain he remains upon drops. You fall to your belly immediately, looking back as V reaches out to grasp your forearm as the soil continues sinking away. You grunt and grit your teeth as your shoulder wrenches from taking his weight but you miraculously manage to hold on, your other arm quickly joining the first to spread the strain out. He glances back and forth between your determined face and the destruction beneath him, his clever eyes judging whether you’ll be forced to drop him or if you’re strong enough to pull him up to join you.

_I did NOT spend three days searching Dante’s library just to drop him!_

The thought makes you snarl and sends a blast of adrenaline through your system, temporarily lending you the strength you need to haul him up beside you with a primal shout of exertion. His legs scramble against the dirt fruitlessly for a moment before he finds enough friction to help raise his body higher. The moment he can support himself safely you let go with a gasp, flopping over onto your side and panting.

_I miss Griffon._

He drops down and lies there beside you as the trembling terrain settles, his chest displaying his racing heartbeat. His emerald eyes find yours and the rhythm of his breath changes as his laughter fills the air.

**_“When they find they must, my lord, they will,”_** he quips between his relieved chuckling. You let out a snort of your own, sitting up as your cheeks stretch and your laughter mixes with his. His eyes sparkle with delight, the widest smile you’ve seen in days showing his white teeth to the sun above.

“I never knew that William Blake had a line of poetry for every conceivable situation until I met you, V,” you remark as the humor begins to fade. He smirks at you as he rises to his feet, his cane taking most of his weight. You join him with much less effort, still choking back the last of your giggles as your steady stride accompanies his limp forward.

The next half hour passes quickly; the hordes of demons apparently enjoyed the rumbling earth even less than the pair of you had and left the area. Your thoughts drift back to revisit every aspect of your theory, dissecting it and searching for flaws in the haphazard ideology yet again with no results. Frustration at your lack of new insight fills you and you irritably imagine what your life would have been like if you’d lived in a different city, fallen for a normal guy with normal problems.

You know exactly what it would look like; you’d lived that life before. The image you form seems drab, colorless and without flavor.

Contentment would’ve been easy, that much is true. A comfortable home, a decent paycheck and a special someone to buy you flowers on your anniversary, rub your back when it ached or, if you were _lucky_ , who would cook dinner from time to time. A reasonably attractive man who was acceptable in the bedroom, someone your mom would like. Maybe you’d finish school, earn a position as a trauma surgeon like you used to dream about. Save lives every day, helping people you’d never see again after they left the operating table.

A life like all the rest, a cog in the machine of society struggling to achieve a pale shadow of the joy that fills you every time you draw your sword, every time you hear Nero’s battle cries or Nico’s muttered curses as she tinkers. A soft echo of the incandescent love you feel for your poet. You don’t even bother picturing a face for the amorphous form representing a romantic partner, knowing that regardless of the creativity of your imagination it would be like holding a single candle up to the sun at its zenith compared to V.

_I have a life most people lack the capacity to even imagine._

Your eyes drift to study his face, taking in the small growth of dark stubble on his strong jaw. The curve of his nose, the small indent on his cheek by his wide lips. The arch of his brow, the intensity of his gaze under his dark eyebrows, even from the side. You force yourself to ignore the thin scar on his cheekbone, choosing to focus instead on the smoothness of his alabaster skin.

His lips twist into his signature smirk, his eyes catching yours glued to his face.

“What _are_ you staring at, love?” he asks teasingly. You blush at being caught but meet his eyes with a smirk of your own.

“Nothing much, just the most attractive man to ever exist,” you reply casually, adding a shrug for good measure. His smirk deepens and he stands a little taller, breaking your stare bashfully to look at the sky as his cheeks tinge pink.

_Gotcha!_

He recovers quickly, playfully swatting your ass with a light tap of his cane. You gasp in mock horror.

“And here I thought you were a gentleman!” you remark, easily stepping out of his range.

“You know very well that I can be gentle, _and_ I can be rough. You’ve never complained about my performance in _either_ category,” he easily shoots back at you with a wry grin. The reminder of his… _variable tastes_ sends a torrent of lewd memories through you and your thighs shake as you step forward. You turn to face him and raise your arms in surrender.

“You win, you win! No more, kind sir, I beg of you,” you plead playfully, and V chuckles softly in amusement.

“Then allow me to claim my prize,” he growls, his arm already extending to pull you against him. You don’t resist, happily letting him capture your lips with his own. His kiss is soft and sweet, a light pressure lacking any urgency as he molds his mouth to fit yours. You part with a soft sigh, taking his hand as you step ever closer to the Qlipoth.

The tree seems to grow with every step now, its form meeting the ground mere blocks from where you stand. The closer you get, the worse the devastation. Instead of chunks of rubble, entire buildings are simply _gone_ , only the outline of their foundation marking where they once stood. Even the trees that once lined the roadway have been uprooted, the very asphalt cracking to set their roots free. And the _smell…_ if you’d thought the Glutton was the worst imaginable aroma, you are quickly proven wrong by the sickening stench of blood, death, decay and dirt that permeates the air.

Two blocks away, the ground turns slimy with the amount of blood that’s soaked into it, the dirt stained red along with the lower portion of anything unfortunate enough to be touching the desecrated earth. The once white soles of your faithful slip-resistant shows turn crimson, then almost black. You’ll never be able to wear them again without remembering this place, this carnage.

A block left; you can see where the accursed tree meets the pavement and you smile at V. The resounding relief in his emerald eyes as you slowly creep forward is almost painful to behold, telling you exactly how worried he’d been about getting this far. The ground here is so sticky you have to be careful not to lose a shoe with each step, the caked-on blood sucking the soles in a tight embrace. You’re amazed that the area is so flat, expecting more of the strange elevation changes or shifted surface to impede you yet finding nothing of the sort.

The daylight vanishes as you enter the shadow of the massive structure at last. The change in lighting is reminiscent of an eclipse, the darkness so complete it feels like you’ve entered a cave. Through a convenient gap in the structure, you spot Nico’s van within, hastily pointing it out to V and rushing toward it to reunite with your friends. As you enter the base of the accursed tree the stench reaches a new level and you have to hold your shirt over your face and breathe through your mouth to keep from retching. Trish and Dante are loitering nearby, talking seriously as if they haven’t noticed the smell.

_I bet I know what they’re talking about…_

As you approach, Griffon flaps over with a relieved caw, settling back into V’s dark tattoos instantly to rest. You glance back at the group as Trish tells Dante something and his eyes go wide. Nico, Nero and Lady are nowhere to be seen.

_So now Dante knows, too. Good._

The man in red glares at you and V as you enter the small area, fury radiating from him in waves as he stomps over, hands balled into fists and chest heaving. He stops just before you and the poet, restraining his anger visibly with a clench of his jaw.

“You’re _dying_? You’re part of _Vergil_?” the son of Sparda demands harshly. V sighs heavily, taking a seat on a conveniently located stretch of Qlipoth roots. You meet Dante’s enraged eyes with your own, making him pause.

“Yes, he is. Now get a hold of yourself, Dante. We don’t have _time_ for this right now. We can deal with it after Urizen is gone,” you reply firmly, leaving no room for argument.

He shakes his head and is silent for a few long moments, his hands slowly relaxing and his lips twisting into a smirk as he faces you once more.

“There’s that fire. Careful not to burn him, _sweetheart_ ,” he comments wryly, his flirtatious tone making your fingers twitch angrily.

“Lucky me, I can’t get burned,” he adds slyly, and you growl in frustration at your own restraint keeping you from slapping him silly.

V cackles softly, his emerald eyes rising to meet Dante’s blue. His amused smirk soothes your anger as he speaks. **_“If any could desire what he is incapable of possessing, despair must be his eternal lot,”_** the poet quips sarcastically and you have to choke back your laughter. He winks at you, clearly noticing your mirth. Dante grimaces but doesn’t respond to the teasing, instead finally focusing on what’s important.

“Hey, where’d that garbage god go? What is Urizen after?” the brash man asks you both.

“He’s at the top of the Qlipoth,” V answers in a strained whisper. Trish steps over to join your trio, adding her own considerable knowledge to the conversation easily.

“It's the other way around, Dante. This is the lowest level of the Qliphoth's upper echelon. Human blood is the source of demons' power. The fruit born through the Qliphoth is even more dense than the blood that created it. Its power is unparalleled. Even the almighty Mundus used it to become king of the Underworld. V told me everything,” the blonde woman explains carefully, crossing her arms and tossing a dismissive nod of her head at the poet.

Dante gives her a look as he responds, striding away confidently.

“Yeah, well, that’s a lovely story and all, but… as long as we know where to find him,” he rumbles, his hands already hovering near his waist in preparation for the showdown. Nico steps into his path with a huge grin and you almost laugh as she meets her personal hero for the first time, her nervousness evident in her every motion. If this moment wasn’t so obviously important to her, you’d already have her in your arms in a relieved hug.

**“** Whoa! You are the infamous Dante! Um, I'm Nicoletta Goldstein. Sounds familiar? My grandmother is Nell Goldstein. The gunsmith that made all your fancy weapons that you got... strapped... back there...” she gestures lamely at the two pistols strapped within Dante’s coat and he pulls them out to show them to her kindly.  

Nico points to one of the portraits on the handle excitedly. “Yeah, _there_ she is!” she exclaims proudly. Dante glances between the portrait and Nico doubtfully.

“You don't look much like her...” he mumbles.

**“** Yeah, I got my looks from my daddy. That's about _all_ I got from him,” her southern drawl replies, but your attention is elsewhere as Nero steps forward from behind the van. You dash over to envelop him in a hug, hopelessly thankful that your friend is alright. He briefly hugs you back, agitated by something and not entirely focused on you. He doesn’t even scratch the back of his neck like he always has in the past at any sign of physical affection. Nico’s voice rises even higher as she presents a gift to the man in red and you both glance over silently.

“Um...it--it-- consider it a gift! In honor of us finally meeting! Meeting,” she tells Dante, holding out a white cowboy hat with a small piece of demonic decoration adorning it. Dante shakes it suspiciously, as if he expects something to fall out of it, but the hat instead leaps onto his head. Your eyes widen as a red and black scarf forms around his neck and he winks right at you before smirking and dancing to music only he can hear.

His moves, while skilled, are _ridiculous_. He adds several exclamations and crotch grabs, ending with a moonwalk and a pose that is an obvious imitation of Michael Jackson. Nico claps happily, laughing as the man in red nods at her.

“I’ll take that,” he states simply and walks away, clearly about to resume his hunt for Urizen. Nero quickly joins him, an angry scowl on his expressive face.

“Dante! I'm gonna go too,” the young warrior informs him. Dante turns around to face him with a serious look on his face.

“Why don't you sit this one out?” the devil hunter asks, trying to be kind.

Nero is having none of it and his scowl deepens. “Oh, and let you call me _dead weight_  again? No thanks. I got all the power I need. Right here,” he retorts, flourishing his metal arm to emphasize his readiness for battle. The whole conversation makes no sense to you; Nero is a capable fighter, already having proven himself many times over in your eyes.

_Why doesn’t Dante want him coming along?_

“You don't understand. That's not what I mean,” he begins, exasperated.

“Let him go, Dante. Time is a luxury we can no longer afford. We must chase after him, post-haste,” V pipes up from his perch, carefully standing and limping over to the two men. Being near them only highlights how weakened he is, how frail his posture marks him to be and you frown, anxiety tugging at your thoughts.

“Why? Does this mean you're going too?” Dante replies in confusion.

“I have a duty to see this through,” the poet reminds him hoarsely, and you step over to stand beside him in silent support. Your breath hitches painfully as you notice more flakes of his flesh floating away in the still air. Dante shrugs, walking backward to the edge of the small area your group stands upon with a smirk.

“Well that's all you have to say, Mr. Poetry. I'm gonna go my way, you guys can go yours. Let's just say that's best for the cause,” he claims, and jumps over the edge without any further comment. Nero and V exchange a look but follow quickly behind him, each choosing their own pathway. V twists his wrist and Griffon’s side of his body lightens as the bird appears overhead, swooping around to take his outstretched arm and carry him to the next level. You wait impatiently until Griffon comes back for you.

“C’mon, little lady! No time to waste!” the mouthy demon informs you and you roll your eyes as his claws close around your arms and carry you to join V below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....and none of them were ever seen again. The End.
> 
> XD 
> 
> I'm considering skipping a bit ahead to the bit with Malphas as I've already written part of it and it would take at least a few days to get a full chapter if I don't skip forward. Also, that part is boring. And I get to stare at a bunch of amazing pictures as "research" for the cinematic ^.^
> 
> So this song came over my playlist as I am prepping this post and HOLY WOW it's like it was written about this chapter! On a side note this is my all time favorite band. ONE AMONG THE FENCE! If anyone's curious, PLEASE ask me about it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1hs4fj-B-k
> 
> An extra large milkshake (or smoothie if you're lactose intolerant) to everyone who reads and leaves kudos, and a side of fries or a side salad to everyone who comments! (I'm hungry now)
> 
> Next chapter - we either reach Malphas or actually have the fight, we'll see.


	29. United, We Fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fourth of July! Have some juicy words and go blow something up! CAREFULLY, of course. 
> 
> It's another shorter chapter but since I have today off I will hopefully get another big one out by tonight. Or beef this one up a bit, I'm not quite satisfied with this yet. Regardless of my own opinion, enjoy!

V

The moment he sends Griffon back for you, the yellowish cave is blocked off by crimson fibers; a demon attack. V instantly flicks his cane, summoning Shadow for the fight just as the creature appears. A Lusachia.

_Ugh._

At his mental behest, Shadow streaks forward across the fibrously textured mesh under her massive paws, using her talons to leap forward at the Lusachia with a vicous roar. She shifts, her feline form becoming a mass of blades that stab into the violet glow of the demon’s shield and swiftly break it. With a gesture of its spindly arms, two points of white light appear beside the floating demon, their pale luminescence growing until several missiles streak forth.  

His eyes track them across the arena, easily dodging the slow-moving projectiles. He senses Griffon closing in and adrenaline floods his system as he realizes the bird is bringing you directly into the path of the lights.

_NO!_

He doesn’t have time to shout or signal you. His desperation consumes him and his vision splits chaotically as his body tenses, dual realities of what he can see and what Griffon can see wrestling for dominance in his perception. For a fraction of a second V’s mind is mayhem, his center of gravity failing him utterly as his stomach drops from motion sickness. Even as his eyes stare at the ground and his human arms automatically stabilize him with his cane, he catapults his focus into Griffon with a singular intention and time itself dilates to stretch the next few seconds into what feels like minutes.

_DROP HER!_

V can feel his glorious wings beating powerfully, the movement sending air through his carefully groomed and gleaming feathers. He opens his harsh beak to make a sarcastic comment, several choice options on the tip of his demonic tongue already.

**Man, what am I, a pack mule?**

The muscles in his purple legs abruptly stop obeying his instructions, his claws opening against his will to drop you before he can react. True panic blooms in his ethereal brain, the first whiff of fear caressing his mind as he hears your surprised shout.

**What the _FUCK?!_**

V’s awareness violently snaps back to his familiar human form, his emerald eyes moving rapidly to watch you fall the last ten feet with bated breath.

The lights pass only centimeters from your skin, but one strikes Griffon in between his wings and he falls to the ground soundlessly, morphing into a pulsing sphere. V’s connection with the mouthy bird fades at his hibernation as you crash to the floor feet first, falling to your hands and knees at the impact.

With you out of immediate danger, V turns back to face the demon with his lips set in a firm line as he forces himself to focus. Keeping his eyes on his enemy, he slowly steps closer to Griffon’s orb as he sends Shadow his _need_ to end this quickly. The spectral panther bares her teeth and shifts into her spinning blade form, her sharp edges slicing into the Lusachia repeatedly. V feels Griffon’s connection strengthen once again as the avian recovers, his long string of curses making him smirk.

“Goddamn, mother fucking _shit_ that hurt like a _bitch!”_ he caws, already diving at the purple demon angrily for his vengeance. The creature _vanishes_ and Griffon splutters as his target reappears on the other side of the cave, its arms waving mystically as flames gather in front of its body. You finally manage to stand and draw your sword as a beam of orange energy shoots out in V’s direction. He sidesteps it nimbly with Shadow’s timely help, mentally commanding her to press the attack the moment he’s out of range.

“Suck it, turd!” Griffon caws mockingly as he joins Shadow in her frontal assault, black blades and blinding lightning striking the Lusachia without mercy. V darts forward and thrusts his cane through the creature at long last, forcing it to dissolve into ash.

For a few seconds the only sound in the vast cavern is rapid panting as V catches his breath. The battle leaves him feeling physically energized but mentally exhausted, his mind struggling to assess the alarming moment of unity as he paces and taps the porous floor anxiously with his cane.

Until now, his connection with the three odd beings sharing his body has been a partnership, each one of them able to refuse his commands if they so desired.  He has been able to see through Griffon’s eyes before, but never has he utterly lost awareness of his own identity and experienced what Griffon felt.

_What in the world **was** that?!_

Is this simply another new facet of his growing abilities? It makes sense; in his first moments of existence, he hadn’t yet bonded with the three demons. The connection was quite weak at first, taking time and practice for him to even be able to bring them forth. For those first few days, he had assumed they simply ceased to exist when he released their energy.

Then he began to feel a distant echo of their now-familiar minds within him at all times, a sixth sense he could never find the words to describe. It grew more and more powerful until he could identify their unique signatures inside himself. The bond thickened and he learned how to read their moods, though Nightmare was _still_ an enigma that refused to be defined.

He remembers the moment he summoned Griffon on a rooftop, desperately begging for silence as he hid beside you from the horde below, his astonishment when the loud-mouthed bird was silent upon his appearance.

And how could he forget the first time Griffon had spoken to him in his mind? He had even mentioned how difficult it was at the time, yet now V can barely get him to _stop_ sometimes. Shadow and Nightmare had made their voices heard as well, their emotions and opinions of his actions startlingly complex.

It had been only hours since he first saw through Griffon’s mind, the distance between them almost irrelevant as he felt the urgent terror within his friend as Dante stabbed himself. The image had been choppy, brief and requiring his total focus to perceive.

And now this.

_What could possibly be next after **that?** _

“V? You’re going to make a rut if you keep pacing much longer,” your bemused voice informs him, breaking his analysis.

“Yeah, Shakespeare! I doubt that’ll work fast enough to stop Urizen,” Griffon chimes in. V probes their bond, startled as he realizes the bird had no idea what had just happened.

_Did I imagine it?_

_No, my mind was too occupied to create such a vision._

“I need to show you something,” the poet tells the bird, and he _pulls_ Griffon’s energy back within himself, bringing Shadow along to save whatever energy he can.

**What the hell, V?**

_Just… look._

He sends everything he can remember about the jarring experience through the connection in a downpour of sensory recollections. He can feel Griffon’s shock, his bewildered confusion as he absorbs everything.

**What the shit? What the SHIT?! You were _me?!_**

“V, what’s going on?” you ask him worriedly, coming over to lay a concerned hand on his shoulder. He pushes the hair out of his face to catch your gaze, his lips twisting in a wry smirk.

“I honestly don’t know. I… _merged_ with Griffon just now, I was _him_. I forgot who I was entirely. It was me who dropped you,” he attempts to explain, still wrapping his own mind around it. Your eyebrows rise significantly, then draw together in deep thought. V waits patiently as your clever mind seeks understanding.

A loud boom nearby makes both of you jump, eyes shooting to the direction it came from.

“We should try to catch up to the others, we cannot fall behind,” V remarks softly. You nod, still lost in thought as your hand joins with his and you set off towards a small opening lit by blue sacs of sap. You sigh as you look within.

“Another drop… I can see Dante and Nero, looks like they could use a hand,” you murmur quietly. Within moments, you’re wrapped around V’s slim frame, clinging to him as Griffon carries the pair of you down the long drop.

_Less carrying, more like a slow fall…_

He sends Shadow down with a slight wiggle of his hand, her black cloud assembling into her form near Dante and helping him take down a pair of demonic knights with a harsh growl. By the time his feet touch down, only a Behemoth remains.

He hears the drawn-out sound of you freeing your blade, your body settling into a defensive crouch and moving forward at an angle. He stays back, Shadow and Griffon already working to get the armor off the massive beast. Dante roars as he streaks forward, his fists and feet covered in metal. His punches are a blur as he strikes one of the chains, breaking it to release a plate of protective metal. Nero’s busy reloading his pistol, staying almost as far back as V for the time being.

V watches the battle carefully, his fingers ready to snap at a moment’s notice. His belly twinges uncomfortably as you exchange a nod with Dante, the man smirking roguishly as he darts in again to keep the Behemoth distracted. You seize the opportunity and spring forward, thrusting your blade deep into the patch of flesh revealed by Dante’s efforts.

_They work well together…_

“Damn, nice moves with that sword Y/N! How about a little one on one training session later? You show me yours, I’ll show you mine?” Dante asks flirtatiously and V’s lips twist in an angry snarl, the force of his envious frustration apparent in Griffon’s massive release of electricity.

“Ha, you wish!” you shout back mockingly. Your tone eases V’s irritation enough for him to restrain the urge to show off and finish off the Behemoth as dramatically as possible.

“You wish for something long enough, eventually it happens!” his idiot brother replies as he draws his own blade and heaves it through the tentacles writhing from the demon’s mouth with a mighty swing. The beast howls and turns to charge at him, but he’s already gone. His tricks only serve to highlight his prowess as he appears on the creature’s other side and slices through several chains, leaving it unprotected at last.

“Care to do the honors, gorgeous?” Dante offers with a gesture. A loud gunshot spoils his fun as Nero slays the Behemoth with a wide spread of explosive gunfire, burning through every bullet he just loaded. V barks out a laugh as Griffon and Shadow return to his body in a whirlwind of black.

“You guys are _all_ idiots,” the young warrior comments with a smirk. “Dante, this is _really_ not the time for flirting. V, she’s about as likely to take him up on his offers as I am of hooking up with Nico. And Y/N, the more you tell him ‘no’ the more he’s gonna mess with you.”

In unison, your face and V’s twist in disgust.

“Well, I’m _not_ going to say _yes_!” you exclaim angrily at the implied suggestion.

Nero raises his hands in surrender, doing his best to diffuse your rage and shooting an apologetic smile at V for good measure. The entire situation is so surreal he can’t maintain his annoyance; who would have expected _Nero_ to be the voice of reason?

“That’s not what I meant. I meant just don’t say _anything_. He’ll get bored eventually,” he explains quickly. Dante snickers, striding forward to clap a hand onto your shoulder. V’s blood boils as he watches your face twinge in discomfort at his brother’s overly friendly contact with you.

“I’ll back off, if that’s what you want. Your face just does this weird thing when you get mad and I couldn’t help myself, it’s so _cute_ ,” Dante admits with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

  _Oh, for heaven’s sake…_

Just as V steps forward to intervene,  you clench your hand and swing at the smug bastard with all your strength, your entire body rotating with the blow. You move so quickly that neither Nero nor Dante react in time to stop you, and your strike lands on the underside of the younger Sparda’s jaw, his head snapping back with a sound of flesh on flesh. To V’s immense pride and satisfaction, Dante staggers back, his hands coming up to protect his face out of instinct as he finds his footing.

Nero bursts into laughter, his opinion clear on the matter as he holds his stomach in amusement. V takes your hand in his and you relent, sending a final glare at his brother as you step back.

“I meant cute like a puppy, _damn!”_ Dante groans as he rubs his jaw.

“I don’t care why you keep flirting with me, but I swear to god if you _ever_ call me cute again I’ll punch you in the throat so hard you won’t be able to swallow for a _week!_ I’m too busy trying to save V’s life to deal with your _bullshit!”_ you shout emphatically.

“Jeez… I _promise_ I’ll be nothing but professional, just don’t punch me again!” the red-clad man pleadingly pledges, still rubbing his jaw.

_That may have been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen._

His despicable brother being punched in the jaw by you for the same attitude he has always loathed… Delightful. The words you had delivered after are just a bonus, your comment about him making his heart warm.

“Wait, do you mean to tell me you have a plan to save him?” Dante suddenly asks, incredulous. “Trish didn’t tell me that part.”

V sighs, already imagining the brazen man’s reaction to your theory of emotion saving his soul. He isn’t disappointed when you finish your explanation and the veteran devil hunter chuckles lightly.

“Well, now I’ve _really_ heard it all. Not saying you’re wrong, but I’ll be damned if that isn’t the cheesiest shit I’ve ever heard. But hey, who am I to talk about what it means to be human? I’m half demon!” he comments humorously. He crosses his arms with a slight frown, clearly pondering something important to him.

“Guess that means the best way for me to help out is for us to have a little chat, big brother,” he adds with a glance at V. Dante starts walking away, clearly expecting to be followed. V catches your eye, expression pleading for you to save him from whatever dreadful conversation Dante wants to have, but he finds no support in your happy smile.

“He’s got a point, it might help,” you pronounce, shooing him toward his brother. V pinches the bridge of his nose.

_Just don’t kill him…_

The two men leave you and Nero behind to chat and wander to the other side of the cavern before Dante begins, his tone more serious than V has ever heard it.

“I keep forgetting you’re… _him_ , because you look so different. I wonder why that is?” he asks benignly. V doesn’t bother answering; it mystifies him as well. Dante sighs, looking at the floor uncomfortably.

“So, how much of my brother are you, anyway?”

“If you’re asking about my memories, all of it from what I can tell. Right up until the creation of myself and Urizen,” the lean poet responds flatly. Dante lets out a whistle.

“You remember mom, then? What happened to her?” Dante inquires awkwardly. V can’t bring himself to speak on the matter, the memory too painful to revisit again and settles for a tight nod instead.

“Did you know she ran after you? Hid me in a closet and tried to go find you,” his brother adds quietly. V shakes his head mournfully, still not trusting his voice.

_Is that why she was in the front room? Is that why she didn’t escape? Because of me?_

_I failed her twice that day, then._

His fingers tighten around his cane and his jaw clenches painfully as he grits his teeth against the despair threatening to overwhelm him.

“I probably would have died too, all of us maybe, if you’d been with us. She would have hidden in that closet with us both, maybe try to make a run for it but we wouldn’t have made it. It’s fucked up, but in a way you saved my life that day,” Dante continues, carefully avoiding eye contact.

The dam bursts within him, his voice sounding choked and agonized as he finally speaks. “I saved no one that day.”

“Neither did I, big brother. And I was with her,” Dante whispers sadly.

A miniscule tendril of compassion weakly reaches out. V thinks of you and allows it to remain, but doesn’t display it outwardly. Dante coughs and V wonders if the man is trying to hide behind the sound. He glances at his brother through his dark hair to see a conflicted expression on his features, some internal battle raging within him. The pale-haired warrior turns to V suddenly, having reached some kind of decision. He speaks hurriedly, the words obviously sticking in his throat.

“Look, I gotta ask you something gross, spare me any details but… were you a virgin before you split yourself? In particular, was there an instance around twenty odd years ago?”

**The fuck is he talking about?**

_I’m not sure… why in the world would he care about that?_

**Only one way to find out.**

“There was. Why do you ask?” V asks apprehensively.

Dante’s eyes go wide, an inscrutable expression flooding him before he turns away abruptly, rubbing his hands over his face excitedly.

“I knew it! _I knew it!_ Ha _ha_ , holy shit!” Dante exclaims, and the urge to punch him is exceedingly difficult to ignore.

“What? _What_ did you know?” V implores him urgently, rolling his eyes. Dante turns to face him again with an absurd grin on his face, his teeth shining and eyes dancing with mirth.

“Nero is your _son_ , dipshit!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few of you saw Dante getting punched a mile away. I had to write that part four times, couldn't decide who would actually do it XD
> 
> Speaking of Dante, oof! Bombshell! 
> 
> The slow build up of V's connection with the three summons has been a fun thing to explore. This is one plot point that's been planned since around chapter three.
> 
> As always, my utmost gratitude for your readership, your kudos, and for your words of encouragement and feedback or just random thoughts. You guys are the best!
> 
> Next chapter - how the hell is V gonna handle this shit? And how's that lovely brotherly chat going to end?


	30. Family Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everyone! 
> 
> Do any of you call it V-search when you research William Blake or replay the same mission five times in a row just to get the descriptions right, or am I the only one?
> 
> Two updates in one day, it's like I'm not working today! *cough cough*
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Nero is your _son_ , dipshit!” Dante stares at him, grinning happily as he delivers the metaphysical sucker punch excitedly.

The world grinds to a halt and for a solid thirty seconds, V’s mind is completely blank. He is numb, his body rigid and mouth agape as static fills his short-circuited brain. Even Griffon is rendered speechless from the sheer shock of Dante’s words. He can’t think, can’t breathe as he feverishly gathers his wits at long last. Emotion returns simultaneously with conscious thought, a tsunami of feeling he was not at all prepared to endure.

Disbelief.

_Dante’s lying, that’s impossible. I would’ve known somehow, would have felt it in some way. I’ve spent so much time around Nero, I would have seen some likeness or similarity but there’s nothing!_

Denial.

_I could never, not even Vergil could have done such a thing, to leave a woman behind to raise his child alone. Even he wasn’t that monstrous… right?_

Fury.

_How dare Dante even say such madness! He has no right! Nero’s more likely his son than mine, with his tendencies! Yet again, I take the blame for his misconduct! Some things never change._

Confusion.

_What is he hoping to gain from this absurdity? He can’t possibly believe Nero’s my… son. I don’t understand his motives; this makes no sense!_

Doubt.

_Unless it’s true; then it makes perfect sense. What if he’s right, what if I am… what if Vergil was… what if it’s true?_

He mentally compares Nero’s face with his own, his original face. There are definite similarities, but he adamantly refuses to acknowledge the truth to himself even as his heart proclaims it’s agreement with Dante in a powerful surge of familial recognition.

_I’ve already failed in so many ways, so many times. Fatherhood is not one of them._

**You sure about that, Shakespeare?**

_Absolutely._

**Would it be so terrible if it were true?**

_Most definitely._

**Why?**

_Because… I wasn’t there. Nero grew up without parents, just as Dante and I did after the attack. He’s endured so much pain and suffering, to know that I was partially to blame for it…_

**You mean Vergil was to blame.**

_I… don’t know. It’s complicated, you know that._

Griffon sends him the equivalent of an eye roll, a short purr following soon after as Shadow voices her agreement with the sentiment. The enigmatic golem stays silent, but he can sense its amusement. Or was that anger?

**It’s pretty simple, actually. You’re only half of Vergil, so you can only really be responsible for half the shitty things that dick did.**

Griffon mentally preens, pleased with his assessment and giving off an aura of “so there” in V’s conflicted mind.

“Hey, buddy! You there? Hello?” Dante’s insistent voice juts in suddenly, his hands waving before V’s unfocused eyes in an attempt to bring him back from his hiding place in his mind. His emerald eyes meet his brother’s pale gaze and he forces himself to remain expressionless.

“You’re wrong. Nero is not my son,” his flat voice responds finally. Dante rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

“Yes, he is, and you know it,” the younger Sparda twin insists. V harshly subdues his urge to childishly respond with a no, the familiar structure of their spats already taking shape as Dante lets his emotions rule him and V refuses to rise to the bait. Dante huffs in frustration as he doesn’t respond, his calm façade ironclad.

**I think he’s right.**

Another purr sounds Shadow’s agreement, and this time Nightmare deigns to respond with a long rumble of assent.

_Then you’re all as foolish as he is._

“It is impossible,” V tells his brother quietly.

“It is NOT impossible, you idiot! Just LOOK at him and you can see it!” Dante shouts, his arms waving in a gesture of emphasis as he loses his patience at last with a snarl of irritation.

________________

As V and Dante distance themselves from you and Nero, the young man chuckles again and shakes his head.

“I can’t believe you _actually_ punched him, that was amazing,” he comments dryly. You smirk and try to ignore the painful throbbing in your knuckles where they struck the man in red, the area already red and irritated. It had been necessary; calling you cute was crossing the line. And then he’d had the nerve to compare you to a _puppy!_

_How dare he._

“How’s V holding up? He doesn’t look too good,” Nero interjects, your thoughts shattering like glass under gunfire. You can’t help but sigh before answering, trying to find the right words to describe the poet’s decline. You look at the floor, vision sweeping across the strange texture as you speak.

“He’s hanging on, but I can’t tell if what we’re doing is going to help in the end. It’s honestly a crapshoot, but it’s all we’ve got, so…” you shrug, melancholy acceptance settling over your eyes as Nero scratches the back of his neck thoughtfully. He grimaces, obviously troubled.

“I can’t imagine… if it was Kyrie, I… I don’t know how you keep _going_ sometimes, Y/N,” he murmurs with a sympathetic smile. You nod, grateful for his friendship as always.

“It is NOT impossible, you idiot! Just LOOK at him and you can see it!” Dante suddenly shouts across the area, his arms gesticulating wildly as he argues with V. The poet is rigid, unmoving and silently facing away from you and Nero. Dante’s features are twisted with his frustration and a tinge of anger and you instantly start running over to the two men in alarm.

You can hear V’s soft mumble as you skid to a stop a few feet away.

“It cannot be… more likely he’s yours,” he utters robotically. When his face finally comes into view, his expression is flat, whatever he’s feeling hidden so deeply within that even you can’t discern it. His emerald eyes are locked on something directly ahead of him, his fingers grasping his cane tightly as he resolutely conceals his feelings. You shift your gaze to Dante, your confusion and worry blatantly obvious in your pleading eyes. The gruff man looks _completely_ at the end of his rope, his brows drawn together and lips a firm line of annoyance.

“Dante… what the hell?” you manage to ask him. He puts his hands on his hips and stares upward with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes to think before he speaks.

That alone sets off alarm bells in your mind. You barely know Dante, but he doesn’t use caution or forethought often.

_This must be serious._

Dante’s eyes meet yours briefly; a glance of apology before he addresses the lean poet. You follow his gaze, watching V’s face carefully for any flicker of emotion.

“Either you tell them, or I will, but this is too important to hold back,” he informs the obsidian haired wall of motionless restraint. His emerald eyes blink once, twice before he focuses on his brother’s irritated face with a look of dawning apprehension. He licks his lips, opening his mouth to speak but no words come out. His knuckles are white in his death grip on his cane, his jaw clenching as he forces a single syllable out.

“Don’t,” he gasps desperately. You wrap your hands over his on his cane, trying to reach him underneath the ocean of new knowledge as Nero trots up to join the strange conversation.

“You guys okay?” Nero asks with a scratch at the back of his neck. His eyes can’t seem to decide who he should be looking at, shifting between each of his three friends in concern as he takes in the strained expressions. Dante crosses his arms, his signature Sparda stubbornness coloring his tone with resolve.

“You have five seconds, _brother,”_ he growls, tapping his foot to keep count.

One.

V’s eyes widen in panic, his eyes darting around seeking an escape route. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows nervously, sweat breaking out on his face.

Two.

You rub the poet’s back soothingly, offering him your support as best you can. He flinches at your first touch defensively, the circumstances overwhelming his senses.

Three.

His eyes are dilated so widely you can’t see the green ring around his pupils. He’s shaking slightly as his eyes settle on Nero.

Four.

Nero meets his eyes unflinchingly, his uneasy worry prevalent in his expressive features. The poet’s eyes light up as if he’s seeing Nero for the first time and some facet of the young man seems to hit him with the same force as one of Griffon’s lightning strikes.

Five.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” Dante demands. V closes his eyes and grits his teeth before turning to face his brother, steely-eyed.

 _ **“Abundance of stupidity,”**_ he recites, turning back to face Nero before he continues with all the caution you’d expect from someone diffusing a bomb.

“Dante believes that Vergil fathered you, Nero,” he announces hesitantly, reluctance dripping from every word. Nero’s lips pop open, eyes shifting to match the circular shape his mouth makes. He staggers as the words sink in and he turns to Dante.

“What the _hell?_ Where do you get off, making jokes like that?” the young warrior chokes out.

Your own confusion rolls through you as you struggle to figure out whether there is truth in Dante’s assessment. From what little you know of Vergil, it’s _possible_ but extremely unlikely. Plus, Nero has so much in common with Dante it’s almost like _he’s_ the older man’s twin.

_So it’s not true, right?_

_Right?_

“Let me explain,” Dante pipes up, and all three of you turn to glare at him. He raises his hands in a gesture of submission, guarding his face from any possible attacks.

“Please do,” Nero growls, his hands balled up at his sides but remaining low.

The red leather of Dante’s coat ripples as he lowers his hands with a sheepish grin, realizing that no one is planning on throwing any punches.

_Yet._

“I knew you were a Sparda the first time we met, Nero. The _hair_ is a dead giveaway. Wasn’t sure _how_ we were related, but the Yamato bonding with you like it did convinced me you were family. Now, as much as I mess around, I don’t _actually_ sleep around. The few people I _do_ sleep with are still friends, I know for a fact I have no children. Plus, the timeline didn’t fit at all; I wasn’t seeing anyone around the time you were born,” Dante begins carefully, mainly addressing Nero as his voice grows steadier with each word.

You glance at V to see him glaring at the floor behind his hair, stubbornly refusing to listen to Dante’s rationale. You stroke his back again even as you listen and wrestle with your own feelings on the subject, shoving them away until there’s a calm moment to face them.

_I can deal with my own issues later._

“So, you were either a long lost brother or a cousin or something, or Vergil… _you know._ I don’t know of any aunts or uncles in the family, and dear old dad died when we were just kids. And, according to V, there _was_ a lady in Vergil’s life around that time. So, uh, welcome to the family?” Dante concludes lamely with an apologetic grin.

_Holy shit._

_Dante’s right._

**_Holy shit._ **

Nero’s face shifts rapidly, cycling through several possible reactions before settling on bewildered acceptance. A weight lifts from your shoulders as your friend smiles lightly at the man you love, his hand scratching his neck again in his signature move of discomfort. Dante relaxes slightly too as Nero lets out a long breath and chuckles.

“Well, damn… that’s uh… _wow,”_ he begins, his shock stealing his words. A look of realization crosses his face suddenly and he looks back at Dante. “That makes you my uncle, huh?”

Dante barks out a laugh and jokingly reaches out to shake his nephew’s hand. “Good to meet ya, kid,” he glibly states. Nero cracks a smirk of his own as he takes his uncle’s hand; they look so alike that it becomes glaringly obvious to you that they’re related.

_How could none of us have known? How could V have not figured it out?_

“Kyrie’s going to _flip,”_ Nero adds, and V’s shoulders shake under your hand. For a heartbeat you think he’s laughing, but then he turns away and lets out a shaky breath, a single silent tear rolling down his cheek as he tries to hide it. You shoot a glance at the two other men and they take the hint easily, walking away and leaving you alone with V.

________________

V

_No, no, no… it can’t be true._

_Can it?_

A single tear falls from his eye as he distantly watches Nero and Dante shake hands, their faces arranged into the same smirk of amusement he recognizes from when it would all too rarely cross Vergil’s face.

**There’s no point denying it anymore. Nero’s your son. Which also means Y/N is banging the father of one of her best friends!**

V sends Griffon an image of himself plucking every last feather from his body, using them to make a new pillow, and the blue bird instantly fades away as their connection weakens. He hears Dante’s banter with Nero echoing somewhere nearby, the use of familial nicknames driving home their newly redefined relationship. A surge of envy pulses through him at the ease with which they connect as they walk away, still chatting amiably.

“V… are you alright?” your soft voice asks.

He takes a deep breath, grappling his jealousy into submission and burying it.

_What does she think of all this? I have a **son. Nero** is my **son…**_

Even to _think_ the words sends a frenetic shiver up his limbs, like insects crawling on his skin. He resists the urge to brush at his flesh, meeting your eyes to answer you instead.

“I… I am coming to terms. Are you alright?” he probes you. You look away and anxiety tugs at him harshly, imagining all the ways his previous self’s action may have disturbed you. All the reasons you have to walk away and never look back. Sorrow hitches his breath in his throat as his heart reminds him what it feels like to be alone.

“I’m not sure. It’s _definitely_ weird, and it makes me _sick_ to imagine you with someone else. But it _wasn’t_ you, was it? It was _Vergil._ Whoever he was, you aren’t that person anymore,” you thoughtfully reply, continuing after a pause. “Do you remember his mother well? Nero might like to hear about her, he doesn’t remember anything.”

Unbidden and half-forgotten images rise to taunt him with his foolishness. A flash of red fabric, a half-hidden smile. The brevity of his time with her.

V forces his memory elsewhere as he remembers the sounds she had made, the feeling of it. Vergil’s thrilled fascination as he experienced what so many people were motivated by throughout their lives.

“I remember enough to be ashamed,” V faintly comments. You nod and take his hand, pulling it from his cane where it had been clenched for far too long. You massage his palm gently and bring his knuckles to your lips for a kiss and your tenderness makes him ache with appreciation. He smiles lovingly down at you and you wrap your arms around him in a comforting hug. With your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and his nose in your hair to enjoy the scent he so adores… all his worries dissipate like fog in sunlight.

“I’ll tell him what is appropriate,” he murmurs, and he can feel you giggle in his arms.

“How very _fatherly_ of you,” you tease him with a sly smirk, turning your face to meet his in a soft kiss.

________________

June 15th, 1:13 pm

V

The group finally sets off again, progressing through a series of massive caverns downward to face Urizen at last. Going together had been wise – each area holds an enormous number of demons, swarms that V isn’t sure he would have been able to clear alone. He can feel himself growing weaker by the minute and his irritation mounts every time he is forced to let his brother and his son do most of the work. It becomes a vicious cycle; he notices his weakness, can’t help but focus on it for a moment, and ends up repressing his self-loathing in order to move forward. In turn, this makes him weaker still, assuming your theory is correct. Coming to that realization makes him feel guilty, and then he represses his guilt, once again making himself weaker as a consequence of his own idiocy.

After yet another fight during which he felt close to useless, the group leaps down yet another hole and lands to see the path forward illuminated with a faint orange glow, throwing the brutally huge spikes curving overheard into stark relief.

“Looks like we’ve still got a long way to go,” Dante remarks ruefully. All four of you step forward together just as the surface underfoot disintegrates.

V reacts instantly, his arm twitching as Griffon materializes in a tornado of black shards. Luckily, he already had your hand in his when the area collapsed, and he easily grips you tighter as Griffon wraps his talons over his still-extended arm overhead.

His wings heave powerfully, keeping the two of you from being impaled on the sharp rocks below, yet despite his best efforts Griffon tires quickly.

“I can't carry you anymore! I _gotta_ put you down! I gotta put you down...” the demonic bird gasps out, panting as he does his best to lessen the fall before he drops you and V the last dozen feet to land unglamorously. Griffon himself collapses on the rocky floor, his chest moving rapidly as V pulls him back within his body to rest.

 _“Damn,_ just a little longer. Come on... we must... go...” V pants as he pulls himself to his feet once again. You rise beside him, dusting off your clothes halfheartedly and helping V do the same. Taking his hand in yours, you set out slowly, making sure he can keep up.

He once again dwells on his own weakness, restarting the cycle of torment with a vengeance as he scolds himself for not preventing the fall entirely. Griffon’s exhausted caw pipes up within him, even his thoughts echoing his weariness.

**You really aren’t doing yourself any favors, Shakespeare.**

_I’m aware._

He grits his teeth as his feathery friend points out his stupidity. It’s hard _enough_ trying to break the cycle without his “help”. Not to mention pushing through the slight twinges of pain every time he tries to stifle his emotions…

**Here, maybe this’ll help?**

Griffon sends him a series of images; the look of frenzied victory on your face after you killed your first Empusa with a frying pan, the feel of your fingers stroking his hair as he leaned over to allow your touch, the warmth and friendship within the first hug he had ever received.

The weakness fades slightly, allowing him a brief respite from his hunched over posture. He pauses to stretch, his lower back complaining at the mistreatment.

“V? Are you alright?” your worried voice inquires as he halts suddenly.

_I can’t let her see my weakness._

**Are you _seriously_ that dumb? You aren’t weak; you’re _dying._ And if you don’t let yourself feel this shit, _we’re_ all gonna die too! You don’t wanna murder us, do ya pal?**

_Not yet…_

Griffon quiets, but V can still sense his concern and his frustration in the back of his mind through their bond. Echoes of the sentiment filter through from Shadow and Nightmare too, and he lets out a small sigh of surrender.

_…fine._

“I’m weakening quickly now, Y/N. I’m… _scared.”_ V tells you slowly, the last word almost a whisper as he forces it through his reluctant lips with a grimace.

You frown tightly at his words, gently tugging him to sit on a nearby ledge. It takes him longer than he likes to limp his way over, but once he’s seated, you take his hand and study it thoroughly. He follows your troubled gaze to see his skin, once perfectly smooth under his dark tattoos, now wrinkled and cracked like the floor of a desert. He frowns deeply, not having noticed the progression of his… _condition._

His heart aches painfully as your fingers caress the damaged flesh and you let out a deep sigh.

“I’m scared too, my poet. In fact, I’m terrified,” you begin, looking deep into his eyes. “I’m _terrified_ that I’m going to lose you, that I’ll lose… _this.”_

You hold up your joined hands and he nods his understanding. He pulls your hand to his lips, planting a light kiss on your palm. A pit forms in his stomach with your words, a weight descending upon his shoulders to join so many others.

He can see now that he has an unhealthy tendency to take on responsibility when he shouldn’t. His mother’s death, his father’s disappearance, all manner of unspeakable things he did during his time as Nelo Angelo. Nero and his mother. And of course, the release of Urizen and formation of the Qlipoth. His list of misdeeds is long and growing, the weight on his shoulders steadily increasing until he’s crushed by it. Even as he objectively recognizes the flaw, he struggles to overcome it.

_I doubt I’d even be able to identify the habit if not for Y/N._

Your words echo in his mind. _“You are not Vergil. You are V. Just because you came from him doesn’t mean you have to share his fate.”_

“Is there _anything_ that helps? Any patterns you’ve noticed?” you probe him quietly, almost desperately. His lips twist upwards as Griffon sends him an image of your smile.

“Griffon has been sending me memories occasionally. Images of my better moments,” he responds thoughtfully, “They seem to help, at least a little. It’s… _far_ too easy to slip back into despair.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you respond, “Tell Griffon he needs to send you more good stuff anytime you start getting mopey.”

**Aye aye, Captain Nurse! I don’t want to die either.**

“He agrees. None of them want to die either,” V answers back for the blue demon with a smirk. He’d have to keep that nickname in mind; it had potential.

Your hand clenches around his at his words; perhaps you hadn’t realized that the three demonic creatures would die with him?

An image of your hair sparkling in sunlight.

_Thank you, Griffon._

The feeling of snide dismissal; a rude salute. He coughs out a laugh.

“V… when I face… when I face Urizen. You need to have Griffon send you everything he’s got. Any memory, no matter how small. Have him start cataloguing them, testing them to see what gets the best response. You need to maximize everything as much as possible at that moment,” you instruct him hesitantly.

He mentally cringes as Griffon whoops with laughter, his excitement to browse V’s most innermost feelings clear within his mind. Shadow growls at the obnoxious bird and he settles somewhat, but his glee still seeps through.

“He’s… excited to begin,” V translates. You beam with approval and stand, holding a hand out to help him rise alongside you. He doesn’t drop it as you trek onward into the darkened passage ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, for a portion of the story I considered skipping entirely the build up to Malphas has gotten long as hell. 
> 
> Today's soundtrack is the entire youtube channel of MrSuicideSheep. If you aren't familiar, it features fantastic ambient music with some gorgeous artwork to boot, great stuff for writing.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr as well, though I'm more attentive on AO3. https://keeroo92.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> As I say every time, thank you so much for reading, leaving kudos, and above all for commenting. It warms my heart and makes me smile whenever I get the chance to interact with you guys. Much love <3
> 
> Next chapter - Malphas (I promise!!!)


	31. Never Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, my friends! Got a nice juicy chapter here for ya, over 6,000 words. I was super tempted to call this chapter "Purple Reign" XD
> 
> Enjoy!

June 13th, 1:24 pm

The floor is so ridged you struggle to keep your footing, the structure of the Qlipoth doing its best to slow your advance. To the right, you can see several enormous columns, grey and cratered surfaces reminding you of the moon. A red haze colors the air like smoke at a concert, the scent of blood heavy in the peculiar lighting. Light and shadow dance across the wall to your left, its stony surface broken periodically by intimidating protrusions. A low howl echoes faintly like wind in a canyon, emphasizing the massive scale of the tree.

All in all, it’s the most nightmarish landscape you’ve ever seen.

The greyish light breaks suddenly as tiny purple flames flicker to life from within black cylinders on the ground like gaudy Halloween candles, casting a faint glow around them as you and V pass. You shiver with unease, the flames feeling all too much like the tree itself is acknowledging your presence. You spot several more clusters of the lights as you follow V, your apprehension growing with each one.

You deliberately look up, focusing on something else in a futile attempt to ease the sensation. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of a twisted tendril overhead, its visage red and fluid as it brings its supply of blood inward. If it had been even remotely close enough to reach, you would have enjoyed slicing it in half, but it’s out of reach and you move on.

Ahead, you see a shadowy cavern past a rocky lip you’ll have to climb over. Dark shapes are outlined in the shifting fog and your apprehension heightens ever higher as you take V’s hand and follow him over the ledge.

Even more of the purple lights appear, more than you’ve seen to this point altogether. The overwhelming urge to turn back, to find a different route, to flee and never return to this place rushes through you. V’s cracked fingers leave yours as he stumbles, grunting in pain as he catches himself with his cane. Your heart aches as he clenches his jaw and steps into the mist resolutely.

_This isn’t right… something here feels off._

The dark shapes you had spotted earlier suddenly light up with yet more of that strange purple hue, concentric circles illuminated on the surface of what looks like rocks. The carvings seem deliberate, _ritualistic,_ even and you freeze, your apprehension and gut feeling of _wrongness_ blooming into a flower in your mind as V limps onward.

“V, wait I think—” you begin, only to watch as his frail body goes rigid, his throat letting out an agonized scream as three clouds of black shards explode from his writhing body and float away. He collapses like a marionette with its strings cut and you sprint to his side, heedless of the trap in your concern.

You slide next to him and roll him face up, watching fearfully as his eyes twitch unnaturally beneath his snow-white hair. His pulse is racing, pounding out a rhythm against your fingertips that makes you clench with anxiety. Despite your terror, you can’t help but notice once again how beautiful he is. The pale hair contrasts with his dark brows, making his eyes even more intense than normal. His pale arms look longer, leaner without the dark markings you’ve become so used to on his body. A low whine of pain escapes his parted lips and you stroke his hair, trying to soothe whatever challenge he faces.

You are helpless as he fights the battle within his mind.

________________

V

V blinks heavily; his eyelids feel like they’ve been glued shut. His limbs feel heavy, so heavy he can barely move them. The dirt under his cheek is rough, the tiny grains getting embedded in the tiny cracks throughout his flesh as he stirs. His last sight before he had lost consciousness was of Malphas laughing, her demonic elation echoing in the air as she vanished. Now, however, she is nowhere to be seen. He painfully lifts himself to his knees, reaching out to grasp his reliable cane and noticing the strange paleness of his arms with a gasp of panic.

He feels nothing from Griffon, Shadow or Nightmare when he probes the connection. He has never been cut off from them so thoroughly, never felt such emptiness in his mind, such _silence._ The all-too-familiar hurt and aching loneliness of isolation washes over him, reminding him forcefully of all the times throughout his life, both as Vergil and as V, when he has felt abandoned or forgotten. Unimportant. Solitary.

He has never felt so alone.

Then he realizes _you_ aren’t there and his stomach rolls in fear as the void threatens to swallow him whole.

_No… where is she?! What happened?_

His wide eyes scan the area, trying to discern his location. There’s mist hanging in the air, a heavy silence compounding the strangeness of his surroundings as he rises to his feet, grunting as he leans over his cane. Low purple light illuminates the area, casting sharp shadows from the monumental piles of crystalline rock nearby. Several more misshapen stones float ominously above like sentinels, watching his every move. The same patterned carvings cover each stone in circles.

_This isn’t real…_

Looking into the distance confirms his suspicions – the view fades to a flat grey, the illusion not fleshed out enough to have any background details. He lets out a low groan and his shoulders sag in dismay, knowing how difficult it can be to break this kind of demonic trap.

_Am I in a different dimension? Have I been transported physically or only mentally?_

V closes his eyes as he feels a soft touch in his hair, a low pressure that feels exactly like you were there stroking his locks lazily. He even smells you in the damp air for a moment.

_She must be near my body, then. And in good enough of a state to be trying to comfort me._

He lets out the breath he’d been holding, grateful beyond all sense of the word that you hadn’t been dragged inside this mess with him. The ghostly sensation of your fingers in his hair helps him center his mind, the gears turning as he focuses on how to escape. Glancing at his arms again, mystified by his friends’ disappearance, he realizes how much smoother the skin looks. The cracks, while not gone, have faded.

“This dimension its... healing my body...” he murmurs to himself wonderingly.  If it weren’t for his concern for you and his hurry to reach Urizen in time, he might have considered staying a while, gathering his strength. Instead, he moves forward toward the light, his steps and cane echoing loudly into the silence.

Three massive structures stand before him, all featuring a shimmery portal lit from deep within with the same faint purple hue and a statue of a massive demon guarding the portals beneath them. He chooses left, Cavaliere Angelo’s portal. It leads into a tunnel, dark and shadowed except for the persistent violet glow farther ahead. He stumbles forward, struggling to walk. At one point he finds himself so out of breath that he has to stop, taking a moment to rest before he can continue.

_So weak… so powerless._

He disgustedly forces himself onward, sandals slapping against the uneven floor. With a flash of white light he reaches a new chamber, this one far more barren than the last but the heavy mist even thicker than before. In the center of the round area he finds three pulsing spheres – Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare.

“So, this is where they are... I'm claiming what's mine,” he snarls, holding his hand above the sphere that resonates strongly as Griffon in his mind. The other two spheres vanish as if they’d never been there to begin with the moment his tattoos darken to mark Griffon’s return. He feels their bond flash back into existence, the bird’s worry crashing through in a tidal wave. He turns to see a statue of Cavaliere Angelo crackle to life, its weapon glowing as it advances on him. With a flick of his hand, Griffon materializes in a burst of black.

“Hey, you're alive! Oh, good to see ya again! Did ya miss me?” Griffon caws from overhead, and he smirks at the familiar gravely tone in his friend’s voice. The bird makes a sound of alarm as he spots the enemy approaching, instantly going on the offensive and shooting forward to rake his talons across its face.

V feels pressure on his lips – _a kiss?_ His heart warms with the knowledge that you’re on the other side waiting for him to return, and he focuses anew on the fight, determined not to keep you waiting any longer than he must.

________________

You pull away from V’s lips and sigh. Nothing seems to be having much of an impact. His hands clench periodically, his chest heaving with struggling breath, yet none of his reactions seem related to your desperate attempts to bring him back to you.  

Suddenly, he cries out in pain. You see his body flinch left as if he’s been hit on the right side and watch carefully to see if any blood appears. A long moment passes before you realize your mistake – its dim and he’s wearing _black_. You reach out and feel under the fabric of his vest gently, only to feel a wet area on his emaciated ribs. You shudder as you pull back, already shrugging your backpack off in preparation to treat the mysterious injury.

_What the shit is going on…_

You cross your fingers as you unlace his vest, tugging it away from the wet area slowly. You can barely see in the horrible lighting, but from the small amount of blood you can tell the wound isn’t deep enough to need stitches. You wipe away the crimson fluid with a fresh towel, revealing a short cut against his ribs. You clean it quickly, the motions second nature to your practiced hands. You’re just debating how to cover it best when V flinches again, this time his right leg pulling sharply against his torso as he cries out in pain.

_Dammit! Not another one…_

You hastily cover his rib injury with a small patch of gauze, sealing it in place with some medical tape. His leg is harder to check; you struggle to get his pants out of the way but breathe a sigh of relief to find only a fresh bruise forming. You return to cradling his body against your own, stroking his hair and pressing kisses to his forehead, worried and waiting for the next flinch to mark the injury of the man you love.

________________

The tall Angelo fades quickly, the silence returning as he catches his breath after the strenuous battle. His rib seems alright, a slight tingle a few moments ago but he doesn’t see any blood. His leg has the beginnings of a bruise, but the skin isn’t even broken. All things considered, he’d been exceedingly fortunate. A press of warmth against his forehead makes him smile gently, your tender affection helping him focus once again.

“That's one down...” he rumbles, pulling Griffon back within his body as the mist clears to reveal the three paths again, the one on the left now unlit and crumbled.

_Is this really the best you can do, Malphas?_

 He takes the center portal this time, emerging from the harsh glare to find another round chamber, mist pressing against him on all sides. The area is almost completely dark, save for a shaft of light that falls on the two spheres of Shadow and Nightmare and the brightly lit portal behind him. He pauses, taking a closer look at his surroundings before making his choice.

It’s easy to spot the foe above him, the grey form illuminated in the shaft of light. It has six arms, harsh blades lining the edges. Its body resembles a human woman but ends with a fish-like tail. The lower half of her face appears normal, but the top half seems to be made of segments of crab legs. He has never encountered this type of demon before.

**When in doubt, purr it out.**

_What?_

**Save the cat, doofus. Shadow’s more reliable than Nightmare.**

_Ah, fair point._

V approaches the reddish sphere, holding his palm over it to revive Shadow. She bursts forth with a roar, angrily yowling her displeasure at being stolen as the floating enemy crackles to life with an explosion of light, at long last illuminating the dim area to reveal what he had expected – a few shards of crystal carved with the same circular pattern beneath the enemy like a throne. Widening his gaze, V notes the treelike shapes in the foggy background and the slabs of stone to his left and right, resembling tombstones.

A warm weight over his chest; you’re lying over his heartbeat, probably listening to it to check his health. He smiles at the image in his mind and focuses on the fight, desperate to return to your side.

Shadow and Griffon attack ferociously, lightning and black tendrils fill the air as they deal considerable damage to the floating form. It lets out an ear-splitting shriek and emits a wave of lights, coming straight for him. He dodges the first wave easily enough but doesn’t spot the second as quickly. He tries to dodge again, but one of the bolts hits his bicep and he grunts in pain.

________________

Another flinch, this one the worst so far. You sit up quickly from where your head had been resting over V’s heart, scanning his body for the hit and spotting a dark stain on his left bicep within seconds. You hold up his arm to get a better look and a wave of bile rises in your throat as you see the shiny skin, a harsh second degree burn damaging the cracked flesh.

_Shit, that’s not good!_

You carefully lay his arm back down and gather everything you’ll need; burn cream, gauze, bandages and antiseptic. V doesn’t seem to notice as you pour the antiseptic over the area, a silver lining to his strange status. You apply the cream liberally, taking care to not pop the still-forming blisters as you go. The wrapping is easy, the gauze held in place by the burn cream as you wind the roll around his arm gently. You don’t even bother putting your supplies away, imagining you’ll probably need them yet again before this is over.

_I wonder if he can hear me…_

You shrug, deciding it can’t hurt to try and lean down to his ear.

“V, whatever’s going on is hurting you out here! Be careful!” you whisper urgently in his ear. A small frown twists his lips, a low grunt escaping between them.

_That seems promising…_

“I’m right here waiting for you, I’ll take care of you on this end. Just get back as soon as you can, my poet,” you whisper with a hopeful surge growing in your chest. Again, he seems to hear you and a small smile crosses his face.

________________

As the last echoes of the feminine demon fade, he hears your voice in his mind.

_Just get back as soon as you can, my poet…_

He smiles grimly, grateful for the reassurance and the warning that his body was indeed feeling the effects of whatever happened here. He’d had his suspicions, but the confirmation was nice. Once more he finds himself staring at the three portals, now only one still lit. He steps forward, determined to finish this.

Once the flash of light fades, he pinches the bridge of his nose at the sight of Goliath waiting for him to revive Nightmare. At the very least, he’s grateful none of the foes have appeared to be at their full strength, only pale echoes of their former selves.

_No point waiting…_

He approaches the last sphere and extends his hand, his hair darkening as Nightmare returns. He instantly starts running as Goliath comes to life with a powerful roar, his arms swinging already as he spots his hastily limping form. V flicks his arm out, a storm of black leaving his skin to form Griffon and Shadow. He leaps as Goliath charges, Griffon’s talons taking his weight and lifting him aside to safety as Shadow sprints forward. At his mental command she uses her most devastating attack, shifting into a ball and shooting spikes out in every direction. Yet more of the dark tendrils erupt from the floor, skewering Goliath. He hears your voice in his mind, feels your warm hand caressing his face and smiles.

_Whatever you’re dealing with, you can beat it! I love you!_

Griffon sets him down at the edge of the battle, his feathered form already building with electricity. He shoots forward and howls, letting loose wave after wave of lightning strikes around the outnumbered foe. Goliath swats at the pesky avian, his massive fist sending the blue bird tumbling. Shadow swipes her lethal claws against him but he ignores her to charge straight at V with a snarl, intent on crushing the lean poet’s form into jelly.

________________

You watch worriedly as V fights some invisible foe. His eyes twitch chaotically under his still closed lids, his skin and hair still stubbornly pale. A gasp of pain makes your heart sink, your eyes already scanning his lean frame for whatever his newest injury is. You cringe in sympathy as you spot his left ring finger bent to an unnatural angle, clearly broken.

“Oh, my _poor_ poet…” you mumble, reaching for your bag yet again.

Not having a splint available, you pull out a pen instead. Again, you’re grateful for V’s odd status as you forcefully pull his finger back into its normal shape and he doesn’t so much as grunt at the normally painful experience. You gently wrap the pen against his digit, glancing periodically at his face to monitor him. A sigh escapes your parted lips as a tiny cut appears on his cheek and you go to inspect it further.

_Just a scratch. Be careful, V…_

You bite your lip anxiously as you wait and watch, wondering if he even _can_ get back. Whatever it is he’s dealing with, you desperately hope he’s strong enough to survive it. You stroke his uncut cheek tenderly, kissing his sweaty forehead once more. When you rise, his eyes are blinking open, tattoos and hair darkened once more as he reaches out to you with a look of relief etching his features. Your heart sings at the sight of his emerald gaze, his dark hair and intricate tattoos restored as if they'd never been gone.

“V!” you gasp happily, already pulling him to you for a hug. He embraces you silently for a moment, taking a long sniff of your hair before he pulls back to inspect you.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” he inquires seriously. You nod and he reaches out his injured hand to stroke your cheek, his eyes locked on yours until he feels the pen wrapped against his finger and looks at it quizzically.

“You broke a finger. And you have a cut on your ribs, a bruise on your leg, a burn on your bicep, and a scratch on your cheek. I treated everything that needed it,” you relay to him, the list of injuries thankfully minor.

“Ah. Thank you, little fox,” he replies with a smile.

“Where were you? What happened?” you probe curiously. He grunts and rises to his feet, seeming a little stronger than before. You hastily pack your bag and join him, impatient for his answer.

“I’m not sure where I was, but it was a relatively simple test. Malphas separated me from Griffon, Shadow and Nightmare. Each time I regained one of them, I had to do battle. Oddly enough, I believe the location restored some of my strength,” he explains softly, stepping forward.

It's only as you begin walking away from the cavern that you notice the carved rocks are shattered, destroyed somehow while V was trapped. He does seem a little stronger for a time, but it fades quickly and soon enough he's already panting, cane faithfully taking his weight as you move onward to face Urizen. You enter another vast cavern and you catch your breath at the horrors it holds.

An expansive network of smaller tendrils extend from the ceiling to the floor, transporting blood ever farther within the Qlipoth. A few enormous vines dominate the landscape, their visages pulsating in a mockery of a heartbeat. A honeycomb structure pulses within the vast arrangement, each segment glowing dimly with eerie white light. The all too familiar shape of smaller roots blocks the way forward, but a quick exploration leads you and V to the bead of blood that destroys them and you pass without incident.

You can’t help but stare at the black bracken overhead, the thin branches forming more honeycomb patterns. The passage continues forward in the same manner for a time until you reach a darker section with several more of the ominous purple flamed candles.

“V…” you warn him, pointing. He sets his lips in a firm line and grimly steps toward the opening to enter the cavern beyond cautiously. You follow behind, dismay filling your mind as you notice more of the circular carvings surrounding the arching gap that V passes through. You hear a voice coming from below and shudder involuntarily at the undercurrent of darkness in the sound.

“If he reaches the fruit, it will all be over. Even Mundus failed to reign over the human world... surely we know he will not,” a chilling voice intones. V instantly crouches down, hiding as best he can on the small outcropping he perches on. You follow his lead, keeping your body low as you creep up to join him silently. With a subtle flash, Griffon materializes on his shoulder.

“Malphas! No way we can handle her, we don't have the strength!” the avian demon murmurs quietly.

_Malphas? Isn’t that the demon that trapped V?_

You eye the demon below warily; a dark form astride a monumentally huge bird, its flesh naked and discolored. A purple glow emits from an arrangement of carved rocks surrounding the form like a throne, the same pattern of circles yet again. You can’t see the creature’s face, but even just the rear view is enough to drive home the truth in Griffon’s words.

“I know. But we must get through this, _somehow_ ,” the poet replies under his breath. He stands, attempting to back away without being discovered, but a loose rock near his cane betrays him as it clatters to the ground below. Malphas freezes, the sound obviously having alerted her to your presence. She turns slowly and you get a glimpse of her face as you follow V back to cower against the wall.

A misshapen trio of female forms blend together to form one body, her three faces all twisted in cruel curiosity as she advances toward where you and V hide. Three pale arms extend from where shoulders would reside, the pale flesh growing darker until it’s almost black on her clawed hands.

“Ahh, an intruder perhaps? I'm coommiing...” her cold voice intones. An icy finger trails down your spine and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you sit next to V, both of you desperately trying to be as small as possible, but you know it’s no use.

_She’s going to see us!_

You glance at V to see his eyes clenched shut, his breath a terrified pant. His skin looks even worse in the light here, the cracks forming a complicated web of disfiguring lines across his handsome face. You scoot closer to him and take his hand, feeling for yourself how far the damage has extended as you grip his palm in a gesture of solidarity.

_Whatever happens, I’m with you. You aren’t alone._

Your other hand goes to the hilt of your sword, preparing to draw and face Malphas despite the fact you’re sure it will cost you your life. What other choice do you have? If you’re going to die, you sure as hell aren’t going down without a fight.

A loud crack resounds in the air – _a gunshot?_

“Gotta pay attention, sweetheart!” Nero calls out.

_Nero!_

A powerful wave of relief washes over you, knowing Nero’s prowess is far more likely to be able to defeat Malphas. Even so, concern follows in its wake and you crawl to the edge of the lip to watch the battle unfold.

“Sparda’s kin... but you're nothing more than an empty shell with no power. You are as weak as your flesh, human,” Malphas comments to Nero dismissively. He listens impatiently, pacing slightly and catching your eye. You give him a quick thumbs up and a smile despite your misgivings and he smirks as he answers the demon.

 **“** Hey, we're tougher than we look. But… there's only one way to find out,” he wryly tells her, resting his pistol on his shoulder lazily.

“I will enjoy this!” Malphas cackles, her arms waving in a ritualistic gesture. Her massive bird roars beneath her, its beady eyes glittering with malice as it faces your friend with spread wings.

You hear V shuffle forward to lie beside you and watch as Malphas springs into action, a cloud of purple energy condensing before her as her mount steps into it, and the portion of its body that goes inside _vanishes._ Confusion rattles inside your skull as your eyes search for the foe, finally spotting the head and chest of the bird emerging from another cloud closer to Nero, darting forward to strike at him. He nimbly dodges to the side with a laugh, drawing his sword and landing a heavy slash on the deformed face before it can retreat fully. It barely seems to notice as its face returns home to resume its normal hideous form.

“Try to follow me with your foolish human eyes!” Malphas cries out gleefully, the bird’s back legs entering another purple cloud to reappear to Nero’s left and kick at him. He leaps into the air, a blue circle appearing under his feet at the height of his jump. He uses it as a launching pad, soaring even higher to easily dodge Malphas’ attack.

“Anything with a nose would follow you… you _stink,”_ Nero mocks her smugly as he lands, and you have to stifle a giggle at his wisecracking nature. You can’t catch her odor from here, but knowing demons, Nero isn’t kidding.

The young warrior leaps again, his mechanical arm glowing. He pushes it out from his body and a multitude of blue lights shoot out, ricocheting wildly off the ground to strike Malphas. His arm shatters, the force too much for it to endure, and he hastily clicks another into place as he lands. You don’t recognize the design, though truth be told you’d only be able to identify Bladestorm on sight.

Malphas moves her arms in another intricate pattern and a long line of angry spikes shoot out of the floor toward Nero. Your friend seems invincible as he performs a hands-free cartwheel out of danger, his whoop evidence of his enjoyment. He hops as he ejects his mechanical arm in a flurry of orange sparks, the red and black contraption rocketing forward on its own small jet of flame to hit Malphas before returning to Nero. Instead of reattaching it, he jumps astride it and rides it forward like a skateboard. He angles the flames carefully, executing an elaborate end-over-end spin in midair as he streaks past the oversized avian mount.

Your heart stops beating as he loses control of the rocket propelled arm, falling off as it continues forward to explode against the wall of the arena with a fiery boom. He launches himself to his feet one-handed, already equipping the next arm in his arsenal.

He draws his sword as Malphas casts again, another purple cloud signaling her intention. He grasps his sword with both hands and brings it down in a powerful strike, the blade lighting up with power as he grins maniacally. The moment Malphas appears through the purple cloud, he strikes with a dizzying array of sideways strikes, slicing the mottled flesh of the bird’s leg repeatedly and ending with a flip to give even more power to his descending blade. The bird screeches angrily and retreats yet again.

“Game over, birdie,” the young warrior quips.

A veritable storm of purple clouds erupt across the arena, a beak or leg appearing through one after another and striking at Nero so rapidly you’re amazed that he only gets a small scratch from a claw as he rolls away. The clouds vanish and Malphas growls darkly as the bird turns almost black, its desiccated flesh shining with wetness as she charges at Nero. The movement is far too fast, the enraged demon able to leap forward much quicker in the force of its wrath. Nero does his best to dodge, but even he can’t escape this.

His cry of pain is like a knife to the gut, his desperation evident as he takes the hit. Once he’s beneath her, Malphas jumps on his prone form, trying to break him in half. He uses his mechanical arm to guard his face, the metal taking the force and shattering instantly in place of his skull.

_He’s going to get killed! He can’t do this alone!_

You reach for your own sword even as the metallic taste of terror floods your mouth, your throat constricting and stomach churning as you stand up. V’s eyes go wide beside you, his cracked skin only serving to emphasize his fear as you jump into the cavern with a shout.

“Hey _asshole_! Leave him alone!” you cry out, internally astonished that your voice sounds so strong and steady even as your knees shake. You raise your blade into a defensive stance as Malphas turns to face you, cackling as she leaves Nero’s bruised body behind. He doesn’t look good, but miraculously stands the moment she’s distracted. He shoots you a look of alarm as he spots you facing the demon that had almost just killed him.

Nero _roars_ as he streaks forward, his blade aflame and swinging wildly at the demonic bird. It sinks deeply into its flesh, leaving a canyon behind as he rips it away and strikes again. Your trembling legs somehow carry you forward to mirror his attacks on the other side, slicing through the tender flesh of the creature’s belly.

Malphas cries out in pain, opening another cloud overhead and jumping within to escape the joint attack. She vanishes, and you look to Nero worriedly to see blood caking his chest, a fresh wound on his collarbone and bruises already blooming on his face.

“What the _hell_ are you thinking, Y/N? You’re gonna get yourself _killed!”_ he shouts at you. Defiant anger pools in your stomach, overriding your terror long enough to respond.

“You were in trouble! I couldn’t just do _nothing!”_ you exclaim angrily.

Suddenly Malphas has your full attention as she reappears in the center of the cavern, bird nowhere to be seen as she gestures another spell.

 “Resurrect! Rise with my power!” she cries, and the floor around her bubbles black as if Nightmare were on its way. The carved stones around her glow with eerie purple light as the air around her churns, small stones floating in the force of her casting.

“Don't wanna give up the ghost, do ya!?” Nero yells, already sprinting toward her. You hang back; Nero seems well enough to finish this himself, and despite how much you want to help him you are _painfully_ aware that Malphas is far out of your league.

Your friend pummels her with his blade as the whirlwind intensifies, his battle cries ringing in the air as he lines her body with cuts. The cacophony reaches a crescendo and the bird violently emerges underneath her with a howl.

Nero flies back with the force of the creature’s return, tumbling until he comes to a stop. He stands quickly, igniting his blade as he advances once more. His last mechanical arm glows and he presses a small button on the side. A wave of purple light bursts forth and Malphas slows significantly as Nero reaches her, his flaming blade still moving at full speed as he brutally cleaves her flesh. The effect doesn’t last long, and he jumps back as Malphas returns to full speed, narrowly avoiding a feeble strike from her mount.

“How do you have such power left!?” she begs, clearly near her end. Nero doesn’t deign to respond, only slinging his sword onto his back once more and drawing his pistol to fire a single bullet into her chest. She turns grey and disintegrates, finally defeated. For a long moment all you hear is your own blood rushing in your ears as the adrenaline fades, Nero's signature heavy trod approaching you eventually breaking through the sound.

“You can come out now,” Nero calls to V. The poet is already on his way down, Griffon carefully lowering him to join you. Despite the blue bird’s care, V still lands heavily in a crouch, grunting. You trot over to him as he brings himself up to stand, his cane taking the brunt of his weight.

“I guess we owe you one,” he comments ruefully as you reach his side. Nero watches with concern, eyes sweeping over the cracked and damaged flesh with a scowl.

“You should turn around. Your body's not gonna last much longer,” Nero advises. You almost roll your eyes, wishing that were an option.

“That... I cannot do. I must go,” V replies tiredly. He collapses again with a pained sigh, and you take his arm over your shoulders to lift him up again. He gives you a grateful smile, his arm leaning on you heavily.

“Damn it, V! Don't push yourself. You need some rest,” Nero exclaims in frustration. It’s difficult to keep V standing now, his body clearly fading fast. Your heart stutters painfully at the thought.

_No… he has to be okay! He’ll be fine once Urizen is gone, we just have to finish this!_

“I must go... to where Urizen is,” V pants, gasping for air. Nero scowls even deeper, his brows a tight line of irritation at the poet’s insistence.

“Why? Why the hell do you have to be there wh—” Nero starts, but V interrupts him quickly. His words shock you to your core, sending panic racing through your mind at the defeat in his voice.

“I beg you! This is my last request,” he pleads earnestly. You look at his face to see the fear and worry within his emerald eyes, the cracks on his skin so prevalent you can no longer find a smooth section. Nero relents, gritting his teeth and joining you on V’s other side to take his other arm over his own shoulders. The three of you step forward slowly, V weakly hanging on as best he can.

“Fine. Dante's definitely gonna beat us there...” Nero murmurs sadly, and you swallow heavily to stop yourself from breaking down, the sobs biding their time in your chest until you can no longer hold them in. Even so, your breath hitches periodically as you carry V to his other half, your mind desperately trying to convince you this will all turn out alright. You can't hold your tongue for long, unable to accept V's surrender.

"V, you're going to be fine. Don't give up now, not when we're so damn close," you urge him.

"Yeah, man! We have a solid plan, we'll all be laughing about this bullshit next week," Nero adds helpfully. V sighs, hanging his head as if it's too heavy for his neck to support anymore.

 _ **"The just man kept his course along the vale of death,"**_ the poet recites sadly. You let out a shaky breath, searching for the words that will bring him hope. Several lines from The Book of Thel cross your mind, but eventually you settle on something else, a line from V's book that had resonated deeply within you during your travels.

 ** _"Arise, and pull the tyrant down,"_** you throw back at him defiantly, and he chuckles grimly. 

"Ah... well played, my love. Still, I... I grow weaker by the moment," he responds sadly.

You stop moving, forcing him and Nero to halt so V pays you the proper attention. Why this is so hard for him to believe, you have no idea. But he has to, has to try...

"Like I said before, there could be all kinds of reasons for that. Just because you feel weaker in body doesn't  mean you're weaker in spirit. Tell Griffon if he doesn't send you a bunch of good memories I'll pluck him and put him on a _rotisserie._ V, I _know_ it isn't easy to stay hopeful. I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through, but _you are not alone._ And if you let yourself die after all this, I'm going to be _pissed,"_ you inform him seriously, staring deep into his emerald gaze.

He smirks, then barks out a laugh. The weight he rests on your shoulders lightens marginally as he takes a little of it onto himself.

_Thank you, Griffon..._

"I'd _hate_ for you to be angry with me, little fox. I'll do my best to emulate your example," he announces, equally serious.

"You'd _better._.." you mumble, shifting his arm slightly and continuing the advance.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been looking forward to that fight since chapter four. I'm such a terrible Nero player I had to do some extra research but I think it turned out pretty good! 
> 
> We're getting down to the wire now, folks. I have decided on a primary ending and have written some of it, alternate is in the works. I can't believe this journey is approaching its end, but I'm also excited to share it with you all. 
> 
> As always, endless gratitude to you for reading, leaving kudos, and of course for commenting. Seeing that notification of a new comment makes my day, and I love you for it! 
> 
> Next chapter - Urizen


	32. One Last Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my wonderful readers! 
> 
> Here it is, the moment we've all been waiting for.... the showdown with Urizen! 
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy the idea that popped into my head and spawned this wild ride. Enjoy!

June 15th 02:01pm

V

V takes as much of his own weight as he can bear, shame mixing with grim acceptance as more and more flecks of his flesh float away. His heart is already breaking. He can envision it easily, cracks mirroring his skin marring the muscle tissue within his chest as he forces himself to feel the pain. It isn’t easy – every molecule of his body that vanishes feels like a splinter being pulled. A sharp sting followed by calm relief, as if his own body were an interloper and the only path to peace was for him to vanish entirely.

**It wouldn’t be peaceful back in Vergil, you know that.**

As much as he wants to agree with Griffon, a small voice inside him insists that he will only be at rest if he merges. That to endure like this would be sheer _agony,_ for not just him but for everyone who cares about him too. He remembers what it felt like to see you in pain; he would be inflicting that feeling upon you with his every waking breath if he remains.

**You are _such_ an idiot, sometimes…**

Griffon sends him a slough of images, visions of joy and happiness yet to be shared with his… _family._

_What a strange thought._

_Family._

For over a decade, Vergil had borne the weight of his isolation solemnly, the thought of ever letting someone close enough to matter unthinkable. He clawed his way to strength, imagining himself to be the last living descendant of Sparda. A heavy legacy, but one he would _not_ fail to uphold. Strength, honor, _power…_ The accrual of such things was all he cared about.

Not once in his wanderings had he imagined himself ever having a family again. Offspring, perhaps. To continue the line, not for his own enjoyment. But _friendship? Love?_

Inconceivable.

_Yet here I am, being held up by my son and the woman I love, their friendship the only reason I can still hope to reach Urizen._

He shakes his head in wonder, darkly amused that he has found such bonds only to die.

_I wasted so much time. Such a fool, I was. How many years could I have spent in the company of friends if I’d abandoned my obsession?_

**Better late than never. And I _swear,_ the next time you think you’re gonna die I’m gonna scream.**

_But I **am** dying…_

**Don’t say I didn’t warn ya…**

V stumbles as a high-pitched wail saturates his mind, Griffon’s insistent howling echoing within the walls of his mind. There’s no escaping the keening, though his hands still instinctively move to cover his ears as his face scrunches in irritation. You and Nero stare at him worriedly, his body held upright between the supportive arms of his family as Shadow joins in, her growling rumbles joining with Griffon’s screeching. The cacophony becomes too much to bear when Nightmare’s continuous noises of colliding rocks crashes along with the frantic screaming of his other two friends and he desperately sends his thoughts to them all.

_I submit, I submit! I’m not dying!_

With a grudging and suspicious energy emanating from them, his mind falls silent at last. A high-pitched ringing follows their silence, his hearing struggling to recover as you and Nero mouth something at him urgently.

Even though he can’t hear a word you’re saying, the concern in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know, his damaged heart warming at your care. It’s alarming to say the least when he speaks in response and can’t even hear his own voice. He cringes apologetically as both you and Nero flinch at the volume, his reassurance that he’s alright apparently far too loud for comfort.

**Damn, that worked even better than I expected!**

_That was entirely unnecessary._

**We disagree. No more thinking about dying, or else! Got it, Shakespeare?**

V sends them all a mental grimace and his acquiescence, _never_ wanting to hear that mixture of unpleasantness ever again. The ringing in his head gradually starts to fade and he begins to regain his hearing, much to his relief. You sound far away, but at last he can put words to the motion of your lips now.

“V, what the hell? That was right in my ear!” you complain, still cringing. Nero clearly shares the sentiment, his head cocked as far away as possible from V’s mouth. He drops his voice to a whisper, carefully watching your face to make sure he’s not hurting you.

“Apologies… I couldn’t hear anything for a moment,” he murmurs cautiously. His efforts are rewarded as you smile gratefully before confusion sets into your expression.

“Why couldn’t you hear?” you ask, mystified.

“Griffon… punished me for a thought he didn’t approve of by screaming in my mind. Shadow and Nightmare joined in as well,” he replies softly, looking at the ground in shame as he easily predicts your next question.

“What thought did Griffon disapprove of?”

He glances apologetically at you as he mumbles his response.

“That I am dying…”

As expected, you don’t react well, rolling your eyes and sighing in annoyance. You glare daggers at him, voice dripping with your frustration.

“Damnit, V! Why do you have to make it so _effing_ hard to save you?” you cry exasperatedly. Nero coughs, stifling a laugh as best he can at your censored yet scolding tone. Your eyes snap to the young warrior, easily hearing his amusement.

“Something funny, Nero?” you ask, daring him to say the wrong thing. He glances at V, a shared moment of brotherhood as your anger spews at them both.

“Sorry, Y/N. You just sounded so much like Kyrie when I load the dishwasher wrong. Or leave the laundry in the washer too long. Or… well, you get the idea,” Nero replies sheepishly, his free hand rising to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. V can’t help but smirk at the idea of such a domesticated lifestyle for the brazen warrior, his energy seeming completely opposed to home life.

Naturally, he tries to picture himself in the same circumstances. What would it be like to have more sets of clothing, enough to wear _and_ to wash? What would your shared home look like? Even though you had never discussed it, he can’t fully imagine a home life in which you _don’t_ live with him. Would you be a messy roommate?

_It doesn’t matter. I’m sure I could manage some basic cleaning._

He’s completely unaware of the soft smile on his lips, the faraway look in his emerald eyes as he pictures a bright kitchen, a large window to let the sun shine through. It’s easy to picture you cooking; he’s seen you prepare meals several times now. He knows the twist of your lips as you cook, humming slightly as you stir whatever dish you’ve decided to try. He’s not picky, his tastes not refined enough to know what he likes and doesn’t like.

He can see the glow of happiness surrounding you in his vision, the kitchen bright and alive with small pots of herbs and flowers. He’d like to try gardening, the ability to coax life along and watch it bloom sounds lovely. Would you want pets? A dog? Shadow might have some complaints, but if it made you happy…  

_What about children?_

It would be only natural for his small family to grow in the same way others’ have for countless generations, yet the idea makes him uneasy. Fatherhood… His eyes peek at Nero as his thoughts turn to his past failures, his inability to fulfill his duties due to his own stupidity. The vague divide that separates him from Vergil is still hazy on that much, on Nero and his mother. What if he failed again? His throat tightens uncomfortably, eyes stinging as he blinks the unshed tears away.

_I will **not** fail again. _

Your agitated voice startles him from his reverie, though he carefully sends the image to Griffon for later use, already knowing how much it means to him.

“That’s very sweet, but _so_ not the point,” you inform Nero before returning your ire to V. “Look, I can only do so much to help you. You need to help yourself, too.”

He shifts uncomfortably under your stern glare, your admonishment striking true. He holds your gaze as he replies solemnly. “The truth is… I wanted to be protected and loved. But I was alone. My only choice was to survive.”

He shakes his head ruefully, obsidian hair waving in front of his eyes as he smirks at you from behind the dark curtain. “I sometimes forget that I’m no longer alone,” he concludes softly.

You sigh and shake your head, anger seeping away as your shoulders shake slightly with the onset of your tears. You wipe them away furiously, grimacing.

“Damnit, I’m _so tired_ of crying! Ugh, let’s get moving and finish this bullshit!” you exclaim exhaustedly, motioning with your free hand and stepping forward again. V and Nero fall into step beside you in silence, both thoughtful as they approach the end of this journey.

________________

Only a few short minutes pass before you start to hear the echo of voices nearby, and your trio increases the pace as soon as you all realize who is speaking.

“Hey, is that the damn fruit you’ve been jabberin’ about? Doesn’t look so special to me,” Dante’s confident voice calls out nearby. It sounds like it’s coming from ahead, maybe a little from below. You quickly step closer and closer to the source of the voice, hearing Dante getting louder as you approach.

“Yep, this is where it all started. That day mother saved me and... left you behind. The thing you don't know is, she tried to save you, too. She kept searching and searching... Until it killed her.” Dante explains.

A dark voice echoes through the narrow passage, its cadence villainous to the point of near absurdity.

_Urizen._

“I have no recollection of this tale, or this place. It's all an illusion, created by this extraordinary fruit. It's power, you see, is all I ever wanted,” it states calmly. Your trio is trotting now, desperate to reach the site of the climactic battle before it’s too late. Pure, unbridled terror courses through you, realizing the moment of truth is at hand.

_It’s too soon! We need more time!_

Your eyes drift to V’s arm, wrapped over your shoulders for support. His skin is so cracked it reminds you of a lizard molting, flakes drifting away with every step he takes. He pants heavily, clearly struggling to keep up. The grimace twisting his features is horrifying; V no longer has the strength to hide how much pain he’s in, his focus entirely resting on reaching Urizen before Dante deals the death blow.

Nero catches your worried gaze over V’s lowered head, nodding forward with a raised eyebrow.

_Yeah, I got this._

“Nero, go! We’ll catch up,” you exclaim hurriedly. He shoots you a grateful smile and sprints forward, leaving you to take V’s weight alone. He gasps in pain at the shift, eyes clenching tight for a moment before his grim resolve returns.

“I will have everything!” you hear Urizen’s voice declare, thick with darkness and foreboding. You share a glance with V as you mentally stumble to the same conclusion.

_The fruit is ready._

_We’re out of time._

You hear the echo of an explosion, then Nero’s exuberant laughter.

“Not today, _jackass_!” the young warrior cries from somewhere below you.  Ahead, you can see an otherworldly glow emanating from around the corner. You grit your teeth and trudge forward, almost dragging V’s flagging feet forward.

“Heh, I _did_ say I’d carry you to Urizen if I had too…” you grunt at him, remembering the moment you discovered he’s ticklish. He smirks in return, a single chuckle escaping his twisted lips.

“You ready to do this, Vergil? It all ends here!” Dante shouts, Nero’s whoop of agreement following quickly. Your heart clenches painfully tight as you hear the sounds of battle, metal hitting metal and raucous cries from the two white haired Sparda men. You round the corner at last and find a glowing hole, the same dim light you had noticed before revealing its source. A glance down the hole confirms your suspicions, spotting Nero reloading his pistol below.

You can’t seem to catch your breath as you carefully help V to the brink, your mind racing with a powerful mix of terror, hope, sorrow and apprehension.

Terror, knowing that the demon king is just below your feet, his powerful attacks making the ground tremble beneath your feet.

Hope, that you and everyone you’ve come to care _so much_ about make it through this in one piece.

Sorrow, that you have run out of time to prepare. _Will it be enough?_

Apprehension, that V could still be absorbed into Vergil once more.

_What if I’ve been wrong this whole time? What if it all falls apart?_

_What if I lose him?_

You bite your lip anxiously, meeting his emerald gaze with tears threatening to spill yet again. His frail, cracked arms wrap around you in a tight embrace, possibly the last one you’ll ever share with your beloved poet. You choke back a sob and lean into him, memorizing his scent, his warmth as best you can.

“Are you ready?” he inquires, voice achingly strained. You take a stuttering breath, grit your teeth and focus your mind on what comes next. You strengthen your resolve, determined to do everything within your admittedly limited power to keep V alive.

“I _have_ to be. It’s time,” you reply. He flicks his wrist and Griffon’s markings on his arm lighten, the bird taking form from the shadowy shards nearby. Without a word, he flaps forward and takes V’s outstretched arm, bringing you both down into the chaotic arena below with a meek grunt. Even he’s feeling the effects of V’s rapidly worsening health.

The poor avian demon does his best, but you and V still end up crashing the last few feet as he vanishes suddenly. You land feet first, the impact quickly toppling both you and V over. He lands with a wheeze on top of you, his slight weight barely enough to expel the breath from your lungs.

Only once he rolls off of you and you stand do you absorb the insanity in all directions, gaze sweeping across the landscape quickly.

At first glance, you seem to be on a dirt road in a grassy field, healthy and normal trees dotting the hillside nearby. Clouds decorate the baby blue sky above, a startling backdrop for the importance of the next few minutes. A wrought iron fence meets an expanse of stacked stone in front of an idyllic grey house, cracked masonry contrasting sharply against a red roof. A swing hangs from a tree in the front yard, rope still as if the world is paused. Holding its breath. A small bay on the other side of the house has a small wooden boat parked against a rock, the pier in the distance seemingly forgotten.

_Beautiful… what is this place?_

Before you have a chance to voice your thoughts, a metallic ringing noise draws your attention back to the heated fight in the center of the area. A gasp of fear escapes you as you behold Urizen for the first time, his monstrous form _so_ much worse than you’d imagined with its orange eyes and cruel spikes, long tendrils extending from his spine. The ground surrounding his massive feet is stained red, the scorched earth matching the roof of the house.

Dante and Nero stand nearby, both with their absolutely enormous swords drawn and already stained with ichor. As your stunned eyes watch, Dante disappears, reappearing in the blink of an eye a few feet closer to his foe in midair. He lunges forward, his blade slicing at Urizen’s wrist savagely. Nero streaks forward as well, his own blade sinking into the blueish-grey flesh of the demon’s calf.

Urizen kicks at the young warrior fiercely, sending his body flying across the stage. A loud snap echoes as he hits the ground, but he sits up instantly, cradling his broken wrist but still able to fight. A blue glow swings your eyes back to Dante as he darts away from the chuckling demon’s attack, the blue circles on the ground where he’d just been standing erupting forcefully.

“We should do our best to remain hidden,” V advises suddenly. You nod, Urizen’s strength obviously too much for your meager skills to face. You follow the poet to hide behind a small wooden shed, carefully peeking out from your shelter periodically to watch the conflict.

_This is so far beyond what I could’ve imagined… What the HELL am I doing here?_

You peek around the corner. Urizen’s clawed fingers are extended in a gesture reminiscent of an invitation to dance, several ethereal swords materializing around him and streaking forward at Dante.

You duck back again, heart palpitating wildly against your ribs as you force yourself to take a deep breath to ease your panic. V sits silently beside you, audible gasps the only evidence his shaking, flaking form is still alive.

A loud yell; you take another peek. A fireball with a diameter the size of your arms from fingertip to fingertip is heading straight for Nero. You bite your lip so hard you taste blood as he rolls away just before it hits him with a defiant laugh, his carefree attitude making you worry like a mother hen.

_Back to hiding, then._

V unsteadily takes your hand in his, fingers threading through yours like two puzzle pieces meeting. You pull his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles softly while trying to ignore the numerous lines across his skin and smiling at him as reassuringly as you can manage.

_He needs me more than Dante and Nero right now._

You stifle your paralyzing fear, shoving it into a box and throwing it in the darkest corner of your mind as you wrap the poet in your arms. You hold him close, whispering your love and support for him amongst the loud crashes and booms that echo from the bloody battle. You stroke his hair soothingly; it’s the only portion of him that doesn’t feel dry and ravaged to your touch, and you take comfort in it almost as much as he does.

The fighting continues in the background for what feels like both far too long and far too short, the moment you’ve been dreading finally arriving as a tremendous crash rattles your bones with Urizen’s fall. You pull back and meet V’s petrified emerald eyes, forcing your voice to be steady and calm as you speak.

“Don’t forget to think of the things that make you strong. I love you, and I _swear_ I will never abandon you,” you remind him with a teary smile. You lean forward to press your lips to his, pouring every last iota of adoration and protectiveness into the kiss in a final effort to remind him what’s worth living for.

“Guys! You can come out now!” Nero calls out. You pull away with a sigh, standing and reaching down to help V rise. Your steps are the heaviest they’ve ever been as you emerge from your hiding spot, Nero’s cocky form standing with Dante’s a few dozen feet from where the demon king lies, his blood soaking the dirt beneath him.

“So that’s really the other half of my father,” Nero comments disgustedly as you and V approach slowly. Urizen’s gurgling breath struggles through his bloody lips before you and you shudder in revulsion.

“I'm afraid so,” Dante responds sympathetically.  

V steps forward slowly, almost all his weight on his reliable cane as he approaches his other half. You instantly dash over to him, worried that if he gets too close he’ll merge. He glances at you but doesn’t back away when you tug at his hand, determined to speak to his demonic counterpart.

“In the last thrones of defeat, I see,” V observes with clear amusement.

“You...” Urizen answers back, but he can’t even finish the thought as his blood stains the ground crimson. Dante adjusts his sword and steps forward with a resigned grin.

“V, get back! Things are about to get really messy,” he instructs the obsidian haired man with a sigh.

“No! Please... Let me. It _needs_ to be me. Please,” you beg the man. He pauses, but seeing as his enemy is already too weak to even speak coherently, he shrugs and steps back.

“Suit yourself,” he replies. You smile gratefully at him before turning to face V.

“It’s time. Tell Griffon to send you _everything_ , and _don’t_ come any closer. I love you, I’ll be right back,” you remind him once again, squeezing his trembling fingers and wrestling the tears from your eyes as you look into his for what could be the last time. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows nervously, nodding. You step backward, holding his hand as long as you can before you’re forced to drop it.

Your senses go into overdrive as you turn to face Urizen, time dilating to a near standstill as you approach his defeated form. You can feel the rough texture of a dirt clod crack under your next step. Goosebumps rise on your arms at the stillness of the air, not a single other person moving. You can smell the tang of Urizen’s blood, coppery and somehow tainted in your nostrils. The gurgling final gasps of the demon king echo in your ears in a sick pattern that matches the sound of your own exhalations. You watch the horrific eyes on his torso blink as you reach him at last.

You are _so_ very tempted to spit on his face, say a clever insult or find some way to rub his face in his defeat, but any reaction of Urizen’s could endanger V. Could make him pull at the poet’s energy at the most critical moment and bring about his death. So, you remain silent, face held carefully blank as you climb onto his huge chest. Your foot slips in the blood for an instant, but you manage to catch yourself by grabbing one of the bony horns coming from his shoulder. Your thoughts race at dizzying speed as you unsheathe your sword.

_You are poison._

_It’s my job to cure the world of you. I took an oath._

_Yet without you, V would not exist._

_So, thank you, Vergil._

_Thank you for setting him free, for giving me the gift of his existence. Thank you for being so foolish as to cast him aside. Thank you for Nero, too. He’s the brother I never knew I needed. Thank you for bringing us all together, even though the cost is too damn high. Thank you for helping me see how much was missing from my life, and for giving me the means to fill the void._

_Now die._

You take a deep breath, glancing at V once more to see his eyes locked on you, features twisted in an expression of how fearful he is. You smile at him, lining up your sword with the largest eye on Urizen’s chest. You mouth those three little words to V before closing your eyes, begging any deity who can hear you to make this work as you place all your weight on the blade, pushing it straight into the demon’s heart.

________________

V

You step away with a pained look in your eyes and he stifles the urge to take your place and end this himself with every last scrap of his considerable will power. He watches you step closer and closer to his other half with dread, too focused on you to remember to do as you’d told him.

Luckily for everyone, Griffon is paying better attention.

**Hey genius, remember what you need to do!**

His faithful friend sends him an image, a familiar dream where his grey stubble tickles you as he kisses your wrinkled cheek, his liver-spotted hands holding yours tightly. Yet even with that, he struggles to focus, the duty he took on himself upon his creation weighing heavily on his mind.

_Help me, my friends!_

A torrent of images floods his minds eye, most from Griffon but a few hazy snapshots from Shadow and Nightmare too. He closes his eyes to focus all the more on them.

The glint in your eyes as you looked at his face for the first time.

The press of your body on his in the back of Nico’s van, shoved against him by her _insane_ driving.

The thoughtful gleam in your beautiful eyes as you talked to him about poetry, the first person to do so.

The first time you touched him of your own accord, laying your hand on his shoulder after his warning.

You, leaning on his shoulder eating trail mix.

Your warm arms engulfing him when your clever sheath was proven to be a success.

Your hand stroking his hair.

Kissing your wrist.

_Please… I need more!_

The images come faster, a rapid spiral of memory spinning through his consciousness even as he feels more tiny flecks of his body vanish, a mirror to Urizen’s decaying breath.

The touch of your hand on his feet, forcing him to summon Griffon and get over the last ten feet of that wretched cliff.

The blood and dirt covering you in the library; evidence of what you’d done to save his life.

The pretty blush on your cheeks as you offered to wash his clothes.

The low moan when he washed your hair.

Your victorious smile when you started the motorcycle.

V opens his eyes for a split second, checking your progress. You’re almost at Urizen now, your hair swinging with each slow step you take away from him. His chest feels tight, stomach heaving oddly and skin prickling in anxiety.

_Keep going!_

Tasting your fingertips mixed with pasta sauce.

The way your steps faltered as he teased you on your way to the shower.

The way you’d laid out clothes and turned the blankets for him.

Your lips, the first time he’d tasted heaven.

Your soft skin under his fingertips as he first learned how to please you.

How you tasted.

The sounds you made.

_Don’t stop there!_

The way you’d looked up at him with your lips around him.

Waking up beside you.

Riding up to Nico and Nero still pressed against you intimately.

Nero’s brotherly warning.

Your tender care after his hip injury.

Your voice reading him his favorite poem.

Your foot traversing his thighs as he admitted he was _yours_.

Your voice saying you were _his_ in return.

V opens his eyes again, seeing you climbing up onto Urizen’s chest carefully. You almost slip back down, the viscous blood giving you trouble. V’s world lurches uncomfortably as he is struck with vertigo. He can’t breathe, can’t focus as sheer panic envelops him.

_HURRY, IT’S NOW OR NEVER!_

The _bliss_ of being inside you.

The moment he knew he loved you.

Saying it out loud.

You saying it _back._

The sadness in your eyes when he told you his fate.

Your refusal to accept it.

Your stubborn search for a way out, and your theory he prays will work at this very moment.

Playing truth or dare, you helping him bond with Nero and Nico.

Nero and Nico agreeing to help him after hearing the truth.

Nero, calling him your _boyfriend_.

You, calling him your _partner_.

He opens his eyes once more to see you raise your sword high and plunge it down into Urizen’s chest with a roar of defiance. V falls to his knees as he feels the cold steel in his own heart, the link between him and Urizen letting him feel as his other half dies.

He can feel Urizen fading, feel his life force ebbing away. He can feel his own soul reaching out to meld with Urizen’s once more, feel the union approaching. It whispers to him, urging him to let go and stop fighting, how _easy_ it would be to surrender. Abdicate all the responsibility he’s taken onto himself, let the chips fall where they may. Rest, at long last. Let his aching body go, release the crumbling flesh that has been both a taste of freedom and an inescapable prison.

A final set of memories flashes through his mind, Griffon’s desperate last hope mixing with his own.

You calling him grade-A beef.

Joining his body with yours atop that brown vehicle.

You, pulling him to safety while Griffon was absent.

Nero, setting him, you and Dante straight after a battle.

You, punching Dante for his flirtations.

Reconciling with Dante.

Finding out that Nero is his son.

How you’d treated his wounds while he battled for his three friends.

You quoting William Blake to him, the perfect response to his idiocy.

The gently urging voice suddenly sounds far less appealing, his resistance returning in a flash of fire in his belly.

**_NO!_ **

**_MY SOUL IS MINE! YOU CANNOT HAVE IT! I AM NOT VERGIL! I…! AM…! V!!!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, you thought I'd pack it all in one chapter... bwahahahahaha... 
> 
> Main reason it cuts off here is this is where the multiple endings branch off. Ending one is almost done, ending two has an outline. Haven't decided if I'll make a third, we'll see.
> 
> As always, all my love to you for reading my work, leaving me kudos, and above all for commenting. You guys are easily the only reason this story has made it this far, I've never done something like this before so it's been incredible to read your reactions. Much love <3
> 
> Next chapter - True ending


	33. True Ending Pt 1: Hope Rewarded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for this? Who's ready to see if it worked? This is part one of the ending I had intended from the very first word, the one I've been envisioning ever since I finished my first play through. I truly hope you all enjoy this as much as I did.
> 
> Soundtrack here, for your listening pleasure - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IDleI-vm7z4
> 
> Graphic descriptions of torture are involved. Updated on 7/20/2019, changed some dialogue so it's more in character.
> 
> Enjoy!

Nero

Nero barely senses the motion to his side as V collapses, his metallic arm shooting out on instinct alone to catch the lean man’s body before he hits the ground. His concerned eyes shift from staring at you, still frozen over Urizen with your hands tightly wrapped around your sword to rest on V as he lowers the poet gently down.

_Shit, he doesn’t look good…_

V’s eyes are shut tight, teeth exposed in a grimace of pure agony. The lines on his skin are multiplying and branching out into fractal patterns as Nero watches, flakes the size of his fingernails dispersing in the air as if someone was already spreading the man’s ashes after cremation. The poet’s breathing is rapid, his tattooed chest rising and falling at a speed that painfully reminds Nero of the pace of the fire alarm’s shrill beeping back home whenever he burns his toast. V’s hands are clenched so tightly blood drips from his palms, fingernails embedded in his ravaged flesh as he desperately battles for his very survival.

_Fuck! I gotta get Y/N over here!_

“Dante, get Y/N over here, _now!”_ he cries at his uncle, and the man in red sprints to where you still stand frozen.

_If V goes back into Vergil, Dante’s going to fight him, maybe even **kill** him. I’ll lose my **only** chance to ever know my father. _

_Dammit, what do I do?_

Nero thinks faster than he ever has before, rehashing the structure of your theory yet again and searching for a way to help the lean poet. His eyes widen dramatically as a low blue light springs from the man’s leather vest right over his heart, pulsing weakly but edging its way toward strength. A glance at Urizen reveals that he, too, has the strange blue beam struggling to burst out. The two beams tilt toward each other and V lets out a pained howl.

_That can’t be good. C’mon, think!_

Nero sighs in resignation as a ludicrous idea enters his mind, but leans closer to the dying poet, making sure his voice is loud enough for him to hear if he’s at all coherent.

_I hope he doesn’t remember this…_

“Uhh, V? Um… it’s Nero. I’d prefer if Vergil doesn’t show up, so… yeah. _Fuck_ , I don’t know how to do this shit, just… don’t die, okay? Keep fighting it,” the young warrior awkwardly urges, scratching the back of his neck as he blushes slightly.

_“Nero…”_ V moans, a tear leaking out his eye.

_Hurry up, Dante!_

“Yeah, that’s right, it’s me. Everyone’s here rooting for you, the whole family. All… three of us,” he finishes lamely with a cringe.

The light twitches, receding a fraction of an inch. Nero gapes as some of the flakes still scattering near V’s skin zoom back to meld into his body once again, partially restoring him.

_Okay… this is **officially** the craziest shit I’ve ever seen._

_Come on, Dante! I could use a little help here!_

______________________________

Dante

Dante runs as fast as he can, reaching you in a few quick strides of his muscular legs. His pulse thunders in his ears as he takes in the look of hopelessness on your tear-streaked face, your hands locked in a white knuckled grip around the hilt of your sword. He can hear your breath hitching as you barely inhale, eyes still shut tight as if you can somehow will the darkness away.

_Shit, poor kid…_

The faint blue light illuminates your bloodstained shoes, the hesitant glow too dull to reach your awareness from what Dante can tell. He reaches out, grasping your wrist gently.

“Hey, Y/N, c’mon. We gotta go save the good part of my idiot brother,” he tries to remind you, but you give no signal that you’ve heard a single word. He glances anxiously back to V and Nero, seeing the same blue glow coming from the prone poet as Nero crouches over him, lips moving as he speaks.

_Right, no time to be gentle then…_

He scrambles up to joining you upon the dead demon’s chest, carefully angling his body to not touch you unnecessarily, but in the end there’s no other way as you remain out of touch with reality.

_Sorry, kid. I got no choice._

He reaches out to pry your fingers from the blade, going slowly to avoid hurting you. Still, you don’t react. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, the other going under your knees to lift you into his arms bridal style and he leaps back to the ground, already racing back to his nephew and brother. A low wail escapes your lips as you finally regain awareness, clearly panicking as you don’t immediately see V.

“Shhh… it’s okay, I’m taking you to him. He needs you,” Dante informs you as he reaches the two men.

_Fuck, I really don’t wanna kill Vergil. C’mon, V… **fight**!_

______________________________

You can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t _think_. Don’t _want_ to think. You have no concept of time passing as you remain locked in a tableau of death above the other half of the man you love, too terrified of what you’ll see to even turn your head. Silent tears pour down your cheeks, dripping off your chin to mix in the fallen demon’s blood under your red stained shoes as you struggle to even draw breath.

Some corner of your mind registers the flickering blue light rising from the corpse of Urizen, emanating from where your blade is still embedded in his chest.

_Please… **please** , let it have worked… _

_Who could ever fill the void he’d leave in my heart? I’d never love again._

You picture his adorable smirk, the glimmer of amusement in his eyes when he finds something entertaining.

The soft lilt of his voice, enthralling and magnetic when he recites poetry, the perfect line always on the tip of his tongue.

The silken texture of his obsidian hair, the way it catches the light and covers his right eye so enigmatically.

The press of his lips on yours; his uncanny ability to communicate through his passion even when his mouth is occupied.

His protectiveness, borne of the most terrible sort of tragedy but manifesting in yet another way to communicate how much he loves you.

The shape of his lips on the rare occasion he fully smiles.

The sound of his laugh.

His wry sense of humor.

His assertiveness.

His focus.

His selflessness.

_I have to look._

_But I don’t want to._

Suddenly you feel arms pulling at you, trying to get you to let go of your sword. The calloused fingers pull you off the crimson-stained corpse and into a man’s chest, leather against your cheek as he carries you away from Urizen. You take a deep breath but it leaves you in a rush _– the man carrying you doesn’t smell like V._ You look up, seeing Dante’s face as your lip begins to tremble. A terrible wail leaks through you, an expression of the despair that crushes your heart like a vice, making your chest cavity feel so utterly vacant.

“Shhh… it’s okay, I’m taking you to him. He needs you,” Dante whispers softly, his steps slowing as he reaches his destination.

_He’s still alive?!_

The vice vanishes, your heart fluttering like a hummingbird as hope floods your senses. You wriggle in Dante’s strong arms and he carefully lowers your legs to let you stand on your own, your hungry eyes searching until at last you find Nero crouched by the poet’s prone form.

Nero looks at you worriedly, his hand resting on V’s cracked shoulder. Your friend shifts aside so you can see V properly and the vice around your heart tightens once more. His entire body is clenched, muscles visibly _screaming_ as he endures an ungodly amount of pain, the blue light coming from his chest growing and shrinking in turns as he gains and loses traction in his internal battle. The cracks mirror the light, widening into thick valleys or narrowing into shallow wrinkles. Even the vanishing specks reflect his struggle, fluttering away or returning to make him more whole in turn.

_Did it only slow the process? Did my stupid idea force him into this pain?_

**_What have I done?!_ **

A long, tortured groan slips through his cracked lips as a _massive_ chunk of his hand floats away, so substantial you can see the void left in its absence. Nausea pulses in your belly as you realize you may end up watching him die. Just like Lara, but so much worse.

_No!_

You reach his side at last, instantly taking his hand and cradling it against your face. You can feel the wetness of his blood against your cheek from where his nails cut him, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters right now except supporting him any way you can.

“V, I’m here! I’m _right here_ with you, stay with me!” you exclaim, forcing his fingers open so he can feel your face in his palm. His shaking hand recognizes you instantly, drawing you closer as he murmurs your name.

The blue light grows, the cracks widening as another huge chunk of his hand fades away.

“I’m… sorry… hurts _so much_ …” V’s strained voice answers you. You stroke his hair, his cheek, smoothing over his furrowed brow in a futile attempt to ease his suffering.

“I know… but you _can’t_ give up. Just think about coming home, about all the happy memories we’re going to make together,” you remind him, tears spilling over his hand from your desperate eyes.

Dante sits on V’s other side, leaning over and grasping his other arm heartily.

“C’mon, Mr. Poetry. We’ve got _so_ many years to make up for. I don’t want to kill my brother, so stick around, yeah?” Dante states, his jaw clenched painfully tight.

Nero squeezes the shoulder in his hand, his own turbulent voice joining in. You’ve never had more love for the two men than you do right now, as they put aside their embarrassment and _stupid_ masculine pride to support V when he needs them the most.

“You can’t go yet; you haven’t met Kyrie. She’s going to _love_ you, just you wait and see. She likes poetry too, you’ll get along so well,” Nero rumbles haltingly.

The blue light fades, but not by much. It still flickers alarmingly, ever reaching toward its other half in a bid to reunite and become whole.

_He’s **already** whole! Piss off!_

“I… _it’s too much…_ ” V gasps out weakly. The blue light shines brightly, so bright you automatically close your eyes. You hear V scream, his voice breaking in his overwhelming agony and only the touch of his hand remaining on your face keeps you from falling apart entirely. Panic and reckless desperation plant the seed of an idea in your mind and you can only hope that V will forgive you as you move his hand from your cheek to your belly, leaning over him to shout in his ear.

“You _can’t_ die! Your _child_ needs you!” you scream, hovering over his face to watch his reaction.

His tightly shut eyes shoot open, emerald gaze meeting yours easily as a look of absolute wonder replaces his prior expression of fear and pain. You see his eyes narrow; his brow furrow as his teeth grit so tightly he could crack his teeth. The poet _roars,_ a cry of defiance so powerful it sends you reeling back.

The blue light wavers, stubbornly flickering for what feels like an age even as V’s cracked skin smooths over, tiny particles of him soaring back to fill in the crevasses. He glares darkly out at the world, rage and fury exuding from him in a thick aura as he forces himself to sit up.

_“NO!”_ he howls, his voice louder than you’ve ever heard it and echoing across the strange illusion you’re immersed in. Your amazed eyes watch as the beam coming from his heart stutters, then finally, _blessedly_ , goes out. V falls back to the ground, obviously exhausted by the ordeal. His chest heaves and he trembles lightly, but even in the aftershocks of his agonized trial, he starts laughing.

He opens his eyes slowly, that beautiful emerald gaze searching for yours. When he sees you, his smile is the widest you’ve ever seen on his lips and a tear leaks out the corner of his eye. You collapse against him, his arms automatically rising to catch you as you fall into them.

His hands stroke your hair as you sob against his chest, completely overwhelmed by relief.

_He’s alive! It worked!_

“I’m alright, little fox. I’m right here. I’ve got you, it’s alright now…” he murmurs reassuringly, soothing you into silence.

____________________________

V

The pull is gone. The urge to join with Urizen, the voice telling him how much easier it would be to surrender… _gone._

_It’s over. I’m **alive**._

_And I’m going to have a child all my own._

The instant you had told him, everything had changed. Instead of panic, he was filled with rage. Instead of fear, he was filled with hope. Griffon had even sent a few images of what your child might look like, giving him even _more_ fuel for the enormous inferno that raged within him. A surge of strength had rushed over him, the pain of the last few minutes insignificant, forgotten as his body healed as he focused on life, on _being there_ for his child.

A mental tug-of-war ensued, his willpower and determination being tested beyond anything he’d ever experienced before as Urizen’s dark energy stubbornly refused to die. He could feel the cold, blank void of his other half encircling him, goosebumps prickling his flesh as every sinew and tendon in his body instinctively lurched away from the terrible sensation, forcing him upright.

The voice had tried one last time, telling him his child would be better off without him, that he was _toxic_ , but he’d howled his refusal for the world to hear even as agony coursed through his veins as his blood caught fire. He refused to submit when his organs melted along with his bones, the heat within him enough to liquefy titanium. Not even his skin being flayed inch by torturous inch could shake his resolve.

_I will **not** yield!_

Hammers descended on ethereal spikes, forcing their harsh points through the aching flesh covering his joints; his wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles were all pinned to the ground like a butterfly on display. What little remained of his innards was exposed to the air as knives sliced through his chest, opening him up from collarbone to pelvis.

_I will **not** go!_

He was frozen, impaled, buried alive, drowned, dropped from skyscrapers, crushed, beaten, staked, burned, stabbed, drawn and quartered, stretched until his limbs were pulled from his body, disemboweled, trampled, mauled and eaten alive.

V died a thousand deaths in a matter of seconds, yet still he didn’t succumb.

**_I will_ ** _**never** **surrender!**_

And just like that, he’s _free_. His flesh knits back together along with his mind, coherent thought returning as his muscles finally release. The last echoes of his trial fade away like dew in the morning sun and he falls back to the ground, euphoric relief making his perceptions swim.

_Or are those tears in my eyes?_

_Both, most likely._

He can’t help but laugh, _amazed_ that you had managed to save his miserable, doomed life. He had always hoped, but not until now has he _believed_. He opens his eyes, searching for you and grinning like a fool as he spots you watching him carefully. Your expression collapses as you see his joy, your body following a moment later into his reactive grasp.

“I’m alright, little fox. I’m right here. I’ve got you, it’s alright now…” he whispers softly, stroking you tenderly as your exhausted but overjoyed sobs shake against him. He glances around, emerald eyes coming to rest on Dante and Nero nearby. He mouths a silent _thank you_ to them both, easily remembering every word they had spoken to help him anchor himself against the pull of Urizen.

Dante responds with a smirk and a solemn nod of acknowledgement, Nero going pink and scratching his neck. V takes the opportunity to inhale your scent deeply, glorying in the fact that he can now do so for decades to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! It worked! Now how dafuq are they going to deal with the damn Qlipoth? 
> 
> As always, my undying appreciation to you for reading this, for leaving me kudos, and above all for commenting. This would have remained an image in my mind, the story left untold forever without you all here with me. Thank you.
> 
> Next chapter - Finale


	34. True Ending Part 2: Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back my friends! This is part two of the true ending, an alternate it in progress and will be posted here once its done.
> 
> With that, enjoy!

V

A peaceful moment of bliss passes as the quartet regains their bearings after the dramatic scene, each gathering themselves to finish what you all started together. V has to force himself to bring his mind back to the matter at hand, instead of reveling in all the joy he feels at having a future. He’s never allowed himself the luxury of wondering what his life will be like in five years, ten years, _anything_ past Urizen.

**Holy shit, we’re alive! It actually worked! Can you believe it, Shakespeare?**

_I… I don’t have the words._

**Allow me, then. FUCK YEAH!**

An amused roar, a low rumble of shifting earth. V smirks at his three friends’ jubilance, all four of them giddy with excitement. It feels as if he’d been carrying a massive block of stone on his back and never noticed, the weight of it so normalized that he couldn’t have envisioned his existence without it on his shoulders. Yet now, the weight is lifted, and V feels as if he can fly unaided. His spirit soars, his mind racing at everything he can now plan for, new goals already formulating as the news of his child sinks in.

He cradles you even closer, tightening his arms around you tenderly. A long sigh from Dante reminds him forcefully that his task is not yet complete.

_Urizen is gone, but the Qlipoth remains._

V carefully sits up, keeping you in his arms as he refocuses on what still needs to be done. It irritates him to realize how his body still trembles, his nerves frayed and exhausted to the point of rebellion after all he has endured. He sighs in frustration as both Nero and Dante stand with ease, seemingly unaffected by their chaotic battle.

“So… how do we take this overgrown weed down?” Nero comments with a smirk. His eyes sweep across the area and widen as he spots something near Urizen, his feet carrying him to it in seconds.

The young warrior lets out an excited whoop, stooping over to pick up a long and thin object.

_Is that…?_

Nero holds the item up with a wide grin.

“It’s Yamato!” he calls out, confirming V’s suspicions. Dante shakes his head and chuckles as Nero returns.

“Right, then… that’ll come in handy. Give it here, kid,” Dante demands, holding out his hand. Nero looks at him quizzically, not fully grasping his uncle’s intentions yet. The elder Sparda sighs, crossing his arms as he elaborates.

“Look, someone’s gotta go clean up this mess, and I sure as hell ain’t about to let any of you three do it,” the man in red begins. “I need to sever the Qliphoth roots in the Underworld itself. Then, I'll seal the portal with the Yamato.”

Nero instantly starts to protest, V simply sharing a look of bewilderment with you at his brother’s tone.

“Hang on, if you do that, you can't come back!” his argumentative son argues vehemently.  

“Why do you think _I'm_ the one going? I’m the only one with nothing to lose. I’ll get the job done, no matter what it takes,” Dante replies, giving a weighted look at you and V, and suddenly the poet understands.

_He’s sacrificing himself for us._

His heart sinks like a stone in a streambed at the realization, knowing he’s about to lose his brother once again just as the two of them were starting to reconnect.

“You can't just expect me to stay here, while you go—” Nero shoots back, but V interrupts him tersely.

“Think of Kyrie. Could you _truly_ abandon her like that? Dante is right, it has to be him,” the obsidian haired man explains frustratedly. Nero grunts in aggravation as he struggles to find a counter, unable to do so despite his best efforts.

“It's because you're here I can go. I’m trusting you three with things on this side, capisce?”  the man in red declares. Nero grimaces, understanding at last though he still clearly wants to go along. He hands the blade to his uncle sadly, pulling the elder Sparda into a hug for an awkward familial embrace. The two men part after a brief moment and Nero clears his throat to speak once more.

“Thanks, Dante. Thanks for _everything_. I’ll keep this side safe, I _promise_ ,” he solemnly states.

_Why must there always be a cost? Is the Sparda family fated to be separated?_

V steps forward as well with his face twisted with bitterness, reaching out to his brother to shake his hand as he speaks, **_“_** ** _I’ll shade him from the heat till he can bear, to lean in joy upon our fathers knee, and then I’ll stroke his silver hair, and be like him and he will then love me.”_**

Dante just stares at him in mystification, their arms still locked together.

“Put simply, _thank you, brother_. And good luck. _Do_ try to come back to us,” V explains with a sigh. Dante smirks; _those_ words he could understand.

“I will,” Dante promises, releasing V’s arm to face you. Your eyes are wide and teary as you meet the man’s gaze.

“Dante… there _has_ to be another way! What if you can’t make it alone?” you cry. V takes your hand and gives it a comforting squeeze as Dante replies softly.

“There isn’t, kid. Come here for a sec,” he rumbles, gesturing to the side and walking away from the others with you barely a step behind. V swallows heavily as bittersweet gratitude toward his brother fills him, knowing exactly what dangers Dante will face in the underworld from personal experience.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A few moments pass in silence as you accompany Dante toward the peaceful house, his gaze locked on the structure thoughtfully. The idea of him being trapped in the underworld is deeply disturbing, but you can’t fault his logic. He is the strongest, and also the only one of the group without a partner who would be devastated to lose him. It’s tragic, but the thought of Nero or V going with him or in his place is so much worse you can’t even finish the thought.

“Alright… couple things. First, you _really_ gonna have V’s kid, kid?” the man in red begins, a curious smile twisting his mouth.

“I… eventually, maybe. I only said that because I thought it might get through to him,” you respond in embarrassment, turning pink. You had hoped no one else had heard that part, but considering how loud you had shouted, it doesn’t really surprise you that your words are apparently common knowledge.

“I can respect that. I mean, it worked, so good call. I uh… if you ever _do_ end up having kids with him, be extra careful. I can’t say if his demonic heritage would affect anything, but who knows? You two could have your hands full with a little devil running around,” he comments wryly. You can’t help but chuckle, picturing a tiny version of Dante’s devil form flying away to escape time out.

“I have a request, though, if you’ll hear me out,” he continues.

Suspicion blooms like a flower in your mind and you cross your arms, giving him an imperious glare. He’s kept his word and been respectful, but if he thinks he’s never coming back, who knows what he’ll ask you for?

“I’m not agreeing without hearing it first,” you inform him, and now it’s his turn to chuckle.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing like that,” he assures you with a smirk. He turns back to face the house, his eyes lost in memory as he explains himself. “Thing is, back in Red Grave City, this place is practically destroyed. I have the deed for the land in my safe, Trish knows the combination. I want you and V to have it, and my request is that you rebuild it. Make some good memories to clear out the bad. There’s been too much _darkness_ there, but once it was a good home and it could be again.”

You freeze in your tracks, caught utterly off guard by his request.

_I thought he’d want a kiss or something!_

Taking a few seconds to think about it, you realize how perfect the idea is. You never intended to go back to your apartment, and as far as you know V doesn’t _have_ a home to return to. It would take some time to rebuild it, but with some hard work it could be a wonderful home.

_And I’d live with V! Just the two of us._

Dante watches you carefully as you ponder, nervousness marking his face as he waits to hear your response. You shoot him a smile as your thoughts reach their conclusion, leaning forward to wrap him in your arms for a hug. He hesitates but hugs you back gently.

“Thank you, Dante. We’ll make it a home again, I promise,” you whisper against his chest. You hear the low rumble of a hum of acknowledgement in his body, a small smile crossing his rugged features. He pulls away to put his hands on your shoulders, staring deeply into your eyes.

“Hey, _I_ should be the one thanking _you_. You saved my brother, or at least the part that’s not a _total_ douchebag. We would’ve fought, probably until one or both of us was dead, so you kinda saved my life too,” he gratefully explains.

You can’t help but blush, unsure if you can really take the credit for that but touched by his words regardless. He stands upright again, dropping his hands to rest on his hips as he turns back to face the house he lost everything in.

“I guess I have a couple other requests, actually,” he adds, and your eyes drift upward in an exasperated roll. You sigh but gesture for him to speak, preparing another eye roll if he asks for something stupid.

“First I gotta tell you where it is, but I want you to take V to our mom’s grave. It’s not far from the house, shouldn’t be too hard to find,” he begins carefully. “I would’ve liked to take him myself, but…”

You swallow harshly as the tears you’ve only barely managed to withhold after V’s survival threaten to spill forth once more. Your heart aches for Dante, knowing that he faces almost certain death and this may be your last chance to speak to him alone.

“I’d be _honored_ to take him, Dante. And Nero, too, if that’s alright,” you whisper back. Dante nods his agreement, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he wrestles with his own emotions. Your first impression of him couldn’t have been more wrong, in the end. Yes, he puts up an arrogant façade, only showing the confident and reckless portions of himself to most people. But underneath the bravado and flirtations, Dante is a deeply intuitive person. He reminds you a little of Lara in his thoughtfulness. Few people would have asked for the things he was asking, for you to restore his childhood home and help his brother find closure.

_Oh, Dante… I’m sorry. I underestimated you._

“Last thing, and this one is more of a formality. Keep an eye on Nero, yeah? Make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid. And V, too. He’s gonna need you even more after all this bullshit, you know,” he concludes heavily.

You take a page out of the legendary devil hunters’ playbook and adopt a confident, almost cocky expression as you cross your arms and turn to face him.

“ _Try_ and stop me,” you answer, with all the bravado you can muster. Dante bursts out laughing, clapping a hand on your shoulder as he catches his breath.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re gonna make a _great_ Sparda. I wish I could be there to see it,” he chuckles.

“See what?” you ask.

“Hehe, see you and V get married. Hey, thanks for caring about him so much. I’m glad he won’t be alone anymore,” Dante tells you with a sly grin.

_Married!?_

_Married…_

A wide smile spreads across your lips at the idea as you picture V waiting for you at the end of an aisle, all your friends surrounding you as you officially declare your love for each other. Dante chuckles once again at your radiant expression.

“And with that, kid, you’re ready.”

He snickers once more, almost wheezing in amusement as he starts walking back to the other two men. You follow behind, glancing back at the house once again to solidify its appearance in your memory. The four of you stand together, sharing one last moment before the family is forced apart.

_It isn’t enough…_

You step forward, standing in the middle of the men and reaching out to pull them all into a group hug. Nero grumbles along with Dante, but V just laughs as he embraces his family. You’re wrapped in a cocoon of Sparda’s, enveloped in warmth and love.

From V, the man you’ve given your heart and will love for the rest of your life.

To Nero, the brother and best friend you never knew you were missing.

To Dante, the pseudo father figure that had surprising depths hidden behind his mask of joviality.

After a long moment, the men break the embrace, all smiling but also a bit pink. Nero looks up the hole you had all jumped down with a frown.

“How the _hell_ are we gonna get back up?”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

V

In the end, Dante has to ferry each of you up one at a time using his devil form. By the time everyone is back in the dark and terrible Qlipoth structure, his brother is panting with exertion. In contrast, V can feel himself recovering slowly, his strength gradually returning to him as his body replenishes itself.

He’s still tired, still needs a little help to keep moving. He takes turns being partially supported by you and Nero a the three of you leave Dante behind to gather his strength before he crosses over. None of the trio gets far before glancing back at the legendary man  one last time, drinking in his face before it’s lost forever.

**Knowing Dante, he’ll be back.**

_I suppose… but it could be years._

**Have some faith, Shakespeare. If anyone can get lucky enough to find their way back, it’s him.**

V snorts; his brother definitely has most of the luck in the family, never seeming to have faced a hurdle he couldn’t overcome. Jealousy burns in his stomach as he ponders the contrast to his own life, full of failures and disappointment.

_Until now…_

_Now I have everything I’ve never knew I wanted._

He smirks, emerald eyes glancing at you and Nero in turn as you hand him over to the young warrior for the next leg of the journey back to Nico’s van. It should be just around the next corner, if V’s memory serves.

_Ah, there it is._

“V!!! You made it!” Nico howls triumphantly as she sprints over, Lady and Trish not far behind her. All three of their grinning faces fall in unison as they realize who’s missing.

“Where’s Dante?” Trish demands, glaring at V accusingly.

_Of course she would blame me._

“He went to take care of the Qlipoth,” Nero answers helpfully, but his words only inflate Trish’s rage.

“You let him go ALONE?!” she shouts, turning her angry gaze on each of the three of you in turn. V sighs, carefully letting go of Nero and taking his weight on his own legs with a slight grunt. His body still aches, nerves complaining from the abuse he’d endured, but cooperating enough for him to limp over to the van and sit on the lowest step.

“He wouldn’t let us go with him, said we have too much to lose…” you inform Trish mournfully. Lady collapses to the ground, tears falling as she hears of her friend’s sacrifice. Nico lays a hand on the distraught woman’s shoulder, patting it reassuringly as she processes her own reaction.

“So does he! He could die!” Trish screams, infuriated. She makes a noise of disgust as she pushes past V, hastily gathering her weapons from inside the van as she prepares to follow Dante into the abyss. Lady lets out a startled yelp as a deep rumble comes from the Qlipoth; Dante must have met resistance. The entire structure shakes, small segments turning grey and falling to crash on the ground around the vehicle. You and Lady quickly join Trish in the van, but V pauses as he sees Nero hesitate.

His hands clench, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He closes his eyes and bows his head in a silent farewell, then turns around and starts running.

“I’m going after him! You guys get out of here! And… tell Kyrie I’m sorry!” the young warrior shouts over his shoulder. V stands heavily, reaching out to try and stop him, but Nero is far too fast and vanishes around the corner before he can do anything.

 _“Nero!”_ he howls, to no avail. His son is gone, following his brother to their doom.

“V, get inside! We have to go!” you urge him from inside, having witnessed Nero’s departure from the window. You reach out to pull his shoulder, forcing him to join you on the steps as Nico starts the van. He surrenders, still to weak to fight you off as you drag him to the couch.

_First Dante, now Nero… how long will it be until I lose Y/N too?_

**Hey, they could still make it back! Don’t count them out yet!**

“I still say I could go after him, too!” Trish insists, in a heated argument with Lady. The van speeds away as the two women fight, but V tunes them out. He focuses on you, cradling you in his arms as Nico’s perilous driving takes you all away from the Qlipoth. He rests a hand on your stomach, wondering if he’ll have another son or perhaps a daughter. It comforts him, helps him remember that his family hasn’t all gone to face death.

_Only half of it…_

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The retreat continues, the massive Qlipoth rumbling threateningly even as Nico carries you all away as quickly as she can. You watch out the window as you at long last reach daylight, leaving the darkness behind. The van races on as the tree shrinks, though it’s hard to tell considering its size.

_I hope Nero can’t find Dante. I hope he gives up and finds us…_

As the van crests a hill, you see a bright light appear a few dozen yards higher on the tree, a blue glow flashing for an instant. You lean forward, squinting to try and figure out the source of the beautiful color.

 _“Nero?!”_ you gasp out, drawing the attention of the others instantly. Even Nico shifts her eyes to see what you’re staring at; fortunately, you’re on a somewhat clear and straight stretch of road. Lady and Trish gape as the blue light rises, ascending the tree at an incredible speed. A faint echo of Nero’s voice hits you as the blue dot leaves your field of view.

“Holy shit! Is he _flying?!”_ Nico demands. She’s forced to pay attention to the road again as you dash onward, putting yet more distance between your group and the Qlipoth. You rejoin V on the couch, no longer able to see Nero.

_What the hell happened to him? How can he fly?_

“He must have unlocked his devil form. I was beginning to wonder if he even _had_ one, but better late than never,” Trish comments dryly, smirking.

Mere seconds later, all eyes are drawn back to the tree once again as the ground beneath the wheels of the van shakes ominously. The Qlipoth is turning grey, its horrible form breaking and massive chunks of stone-like remains crash to the ground below in a symphony of Dante’s success.

Everyone in the van cheers as the demonic growth crumbles away, the red stained clouds clearing and the darkness receding from the city as the last few pieces rain down. Sections of the city shift, the roots they had been elevated on vanishing and forcing them back to their original positions.

_I hope the Sparda manor is alright…_

_I hope Dante and Nero are alright._

Your heart aches as you realize that one or both of them must have made it to the underworld and severed the tree from the other side. Nico pulls over, the van screeching to a stop. The five of you dash off the van to stand and watch the skyline, waiting with bated breath for any sign of your friends.

_Please… please, Nero, come back…_

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The group waits for hours, refusing to admit the brutal truth even as the sun sets and the shadows lengthen behind you. The flame of hope stutters in your chest, dimming and finally going dark as Lady speaks the words you’ve all been thinking.

“They’re gone… _both_ of them…” the brunette states morosely. You sniffle, angrily wiping your eyes as you begin to cry, _again._

_I swear, I’ve cried enough to fill a bucket today._

You lean your head on V’s shoulder where he sits beside you, his face stricken as he faces the fact that his brother and his son are gone, trapped in the underworld with no hope of escape.

 _“Goddamnit, Nero!_ You fucking asshole!” Nico exclaims, sorrow and rage mixing in her voice. Her shoulders sag as she starts to cry, head bowed as choking sobs break from her lips.

Trish barely shows her sorrow, only her trembling lower lip betraying her pain as she continues her vigil. Her eyes have never once left the horizon, her faith in Dante unshakeable.

Lady sits on your other side, her fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of her jacket. She keeps biting her lip, worrying it with her teeth in an expression of anxiety.

You wipe your eyes once more and stand, stepping into the van and searching for blankets and pillows. Your breath hitches as you spot one of Nero’s mechanical arms awaiting his return on Nico’s workbench, its cold metal never to touch the flesh of the man it was made for.  Your resolve shatters, your bruised and exhausted heart aching in your chest as you bury your face in a pillow from the couch and scream, wailing your pain to the uncaring down feathers stuffing it.

You had been preparing yourself to lose V, unsure if your plan would work.

You had not been preparing to lose anyone else.

_Stupid, so stupid, to think we could all make it through in one piece! There was no way, it’s amazing more of us aren’t dead!_

You bite your cracked lips, stifling the sobs as best you can.

_I’m so tired of crying._

Your head pulsates with waves of pain, your mouth so dry you can’t even wet your lips properly. The flesh under your eyes feels raw from all the tears you’ve wiped away, your eyelids swollen and tired.

_Is it wrong for me to be happy that V’s here? To be grateful?_

_It feels like a cruel joke._

“Little fox? Are you alright?” V’s lilting tone calls out from the door. He easily spots you with your face stuffed into a pillow, shoulders still shaking. He closes the door behind him and gently takes you in his arms, rubbing your back soothingly and making soft shushing sounds in your ear. Your sobs fade into hiccups, your body relaxing into his warmth as he eases your pain.

He leans back to look into your eyes, a mournful smile on his lips.

“I’m so sorry about Nero. I know how important he is to you,” he whispers. You swallow heavily before responding, picking up the pieces of your broken heart.

“He’s my best friend… and Dante was growing on me. I can’t believe they’re just… _gone_ ,” your broken voice states. V grimaces and you’re suddenly acutely aware of what he must be feeling, self-loathing surging within you as you realize how much worse his pain could be.

“Are _you_ okay, V?” you ask him tremulously. He moves to sit on the couch with a sigh, pushing the dark curtain of his hair out of his face. You reach out to him, your hand feeling the tenseness in his neck and shoulders. You start rubbing, massaging his clenched muscles as he responds slowly.

“I… I don’t know. My body grows stronger, yet… I’m _worried_ about them. About Dante and Nero. I wish there had been another option, or that Nero hadn’t run off,” he mumbles. You pinch the corded muscle connecting his shoulder to his neck and he lets out a contented moan as you carefully pull on the tissue.

“I’m worried too. Is there _really_ nothing we can do? No way to reach them?” you ask morosely, but to your shock, V’s eyes widen as he jolts in the classic expression of an idea coming into his mind.

“There might be… there are many routes to the underworld, it’s possible if there’s an open one close by that we could find them,” he tells you thoughtfully. A low glow of hope flares in your heart, the idea of being able to get the two white-haired warriors home too appealing to ignore.

V stands excitedly, taking your hand and pulling you with him as he goes back outside to rejoin the others. The three women stare at him in confusion as they take in his eager expression, all still reeling from the loss.

“Trish, do you know if there are any devil gates nearby? Or a portal, any access point to the underworld?” the poet begins. The blonde woman stares at him blankly for a long moment as her mind catches up. Her eyes widen in realization, her lips stretching into a hesitant smile.

“You think we could get them out.” She states. V nods, and all three women rush at him, each desperate for any scrap of hope.

_Wait… didn’t Dante say something about closing the portal?_

“Uh, guys? Can you explain to the newbie how exactly there’s a way to the underworld if Dante closed the portal with the Yamato?” you ask the quartet. Trish shares a look with V, then steps forward to explain.

“The underworld has numerous portals, uncountable ways to reach it. Dante was referring to the largest and most well-known portal, the one that’s been used most recently to bring the Qlipoth here. Even if he does seal that portal, there are many others that may still function. Those closest to the closed portal my weaken or stop working entirely, but some portals farther away could work easily,” she explains kindly.

“So there’s hope?” you ask her meekly.

“Yes, Y/N. We’re gonna bring our boys home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say sequel? O,O Don't have a title yet, but yes, there will be a sequel! I'm excited to get started! 
> 
> What, you didn't honestly think I'd leave Dante and Nero stuck down there, did you?
> 
> As always, my deepest gratitude to you for reading, leaving kudos, and for your lovely comments! Each comment makes me smile like a lunatic, I love chatting with you guys so much and it really helps keep me going to hear from you.
> 
> Next Chapter - Epilogue


	35. True Ending Epilogue: A Solemn Vow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everyone! Here is the final installment of SBHS's True Ending. The alternate ending is being difficult, but should be ready in the next few days. For those who aren't interested in reading the alternate ending, my final author's note will be at the end of this chapter. 
> 
> Apologies for the brevity of the epilogue, I consider it a bonus scene. 
> 
> Today's soundtrack is from Detroit: Become Human, and I highly recommend you listen to this while reading - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BI4N3VgV1dM
> 
> With that, enjoy!

The golden glow of sunset accompanies the two figures walking together, hand in hand. The ground crunches under their feet, the dirt mixed with blood from the recent catastrophe. The pair don’t seem to notice, their minds elsewhere as the shorter of the two points out a nearby plaque on the ground.

“I think it’s that one,” your quiet voice states. The obsidian haired man beside you swallows heavily, a shaky breath parting his full lips as he steps closer to the grave marking. It’s a simple one, fitting. It stands out amongst the myriad of stonework surrounding you, its gentle simplicity a calm amidst the storm of complex decorations.

The rectangle of granite has beautiful carvings of celtic symbols surrounding his mother’s name, a simple inscription below complimenting the subtle curve of the stone. A young oak tree a few feet away casts a shadow over the plaque, but you can still make out the words easily enough.

_Death is only a horizon; and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight. (Rossiter Worthington Raymond)_

You move back to give V a moment alone as he steps closer to his mother’s final resting place, placing the bouquet of lilies you gave him to leave here beside the marker. He bows his head, his dark hair hiding his grief-laden expression from you as he silently takes a seat on the grass. The manor stands vigil over the small graveyard, an imposing grey guardian for the fallen members of the Sparda family.

“Hello, mother,” V’s unsteady voice begins. He lies a hand over the marker, his tattooed fingers pressing against the cold stone as he strokes the letters of her name tenderly. You begin walking away, intending to give V all the time he needs with his mother, but he gestures for you to stay. He beckons you closer with a weary look and you sit beside him, cross-legged.

“This is Y/N. She saved my life,” he murmurs softly. He smiles at you fondly as the first tear falls from his emerald eyes. The air is strangely still around you, only serving to emphasize the poet’s quiet gasps.

“Hello, Eva,” you whisper, your hand reaching out to lie next to V’s on the marker.

Slowly, the poet tells the story of the last few weeks, bringing Eva’s spirit up to speed on the whirlwind of Urizen and the Qlipoth’s fall. He blushes as he relays your first night together, sparing most of the intimate details. He chuckles as he speaks of Griffon’s insistence on telling you the truth, and the bird’s revelation that V was, in fact, in love with you.

His muscles clench in remembered pain as he describes the episodes of agony he endured, the slow loss of his spirit and the cracks that ran rampant across his now-smooth flesh. He closes his eyes and chuckles as he informs her of how you had punched Dante, the image still fresh in both your minds. He takes your hand as he recalls the final battle with Urizen and his frustration that he had been forced to hide.

He bows his head as he remembers his fight to survive after you struck the killing blow, the memories that swirled through his head and your news of his child that proved to be the tipping point. He trembles as he tells her of Dante and Nero’s sacrifice, his stuttering exhalation evident in the steamy cloud leaving his mouth. You lean into his shoulder, wrapping your free arm around his comfortingly as you sniffle, hearing some of it for the first time.

“I promise, mother, I will _not_ abandon them. We’re going after them, we’ll bring them home. I _swear_ it,” he vehemently declares.  

A sudden gust of wind blows across the minute graveyard, the leaves rustling in the trees as it passes in an approximation of a whisper. The last few rays of light fade as the sun finishes its descent, the endless cycle of light and darkness continuing heedless of the events taking place below. You sit with V for a long moment of silence, respecting his moment with his mother. You lean back to stretch as your muscles begin to complain from sitting for too long, the chilly night air doing no favors for your circulation. V sighs heavily as he pulls his hand away from the granite marker, rising and wiping his tears away as he offers you a hand up.

“We’ll be back soon, with Dante and Nero,” he assures the silent patch of earth. He starts walking away, but you pause.

“I’ll be just a minute,” you tell him at his questioning look. He nods and leaves you silently, waiting for you at the edge of the small lot. You gather your thoughts, knowing what you want to tell Eva but not sure which words to use. You bite your lip nervously, wondering if V can hear you as you mumble.

“I’ll be with him _every step_ of the way. He will _never_ be alone again, I promise. Thank you, Eva. I wish we could’ve met,” you pronounce quietly. Another sudden burst of wind sends your mind fluttering, wondering if maybe Eva can hear you, wherever she is. Faith isn’t something you’re accustomed to, but you’ve always _wanted_ to believe. After everything you’ve seen over the last few weeks, it suddenly doesn’t seem so far-fetched that there’s an afterlife, that those who die aren’t truly gone.

_I hope so. I hope she can hear me; hope she’s watching over her sons._

You smile softly at the thought, departing with a final glance at the beautiful marker.

“See you soon,” you declare, wiping your own tears away as you rejoin V. You take his warm hand in yours, lacing your fingers through his tenderly. Together, the two of you leave the graveyard behind and head into the manor.

The wind whooshes through the trees once more, eliciting a sound resembling a giggle as the two figures vanish into the home on the hill. A tiny sparrow lands over Eva’s grave to investigate the fresh flowers, its cautious pecking searching for food within the greenery. The bird fluffs its feathers as the chill in the air deepens, but a moment later a warm breeze eases the small creature’s chill as another echo of laughter sounds from the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roll Credits!!!
> 
> Holy crap, I can hardly believe I actually finished it. Writing this has been the most rewarding and humbling experience of my life. I've been utterly blown away by the response, by the number of people who cared enough to cheer me on or tell me their thoughts throughout the process. I've learned so much about storytelling and structure, about pacing and flow. It's hard to believe that this story is over 140,000 words, all from a single image of V surviving Urizen's death that popped into my head only eight weeks ago. 
> 
> I want to give a special thank you to SpiritChilde, for writing Ebony and Ivory. That fic is what gave me the crazy idea of actually writing my own. An inspiration in the truest sense, thank you so much for sharing your incredible writing with us and helping me rediscover my creativity.
> 
> Another few thank you's to the wonderful folks who have commented so kindly before the story was even fully written. Without you guys, I never would have gotten this far. Thank you so much for your encouragement, your feedback and your emoji-laden reactions to my work. 
> 
> Thank you jazzyri, Anozu, Starangeldragon, ScarletteRose, Cobaltblue, Bre3zey, Tehrevving, Kaylanna428, Lee, Milk_baeb, voidpomf, SpiritChilde, InugamiMochi, PoorSap, DeathlyFlower21, VergilsDemonslayergirlfriend, ghostofarose, Eravanthia, Parn, Rpcreations, NoLifeToCallMyOwn, Armisael, Silently_Invisibly, and NightVallin. Anytime I found myself struggling, rereading your words renewed my determination to see this through. You guys will forever hold a special place in my writer's heart.
> 
> To everyone who didn't leave a comment but read along from the shadows, thank you for your clicks and your silent enjoyment. I appreciate you. You guys helped this crazy thing reach 3780 hits as I write this. 
> 
> A final thank you to my exceedingly patient boyfriend, who has endured my strange obsession with a fictional character with unsurpassed grace and even gone so far as to read my work despite his lack of free time. You have my undying appreciation and love for your encouragement and understanding.
> 
> I'll see you all soon on chapter one of Crimson Tide.


	36. Alternate Ending: The Dark Side of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovely readers! here is the alternate ending, and make sure you have some tissues handy for this one. 
> 
> Enjoy!

June 15th, 3:06 pm

The low blue glow flashes, painfully bright against your clenched eyelids as it surges from Urizen’s body beneath you and you topple to the side in shock as the corpse vanishes. Your heart sinks to the floor as you look back to where you left V to see nothing, a void where the man you love should be waiting for you.

V is gone.

_V is gone…_

_NO!!!!_

You collapse in on yourself, tears falling from your eyes like rain, painting your cheeks and dripping off your chin. The pain in your heart is too much to bear, it’s as if there’s a hole inside your chest. Heaving, choking sobs wrack your body as you watch the blue light fade to reveal…

_Vergil._

A tall man dressed in high quality clothing, white hair slicked back and a cold expression on his face. Yet as you watch, his face chances, morphs almost, and suddenly Vergil has V’s face. It barely has time to register in your mind before it’s gone again, but something is clearly wrong with Vergil; he holds his head in both hands as if in agonizing pain, features twisted with what looks like rage as he falls to one knee. Its clear something is happening inside him and he doesn’t like it.

You stand slowly, a tiny flicker of hope appearing in your chest.

_He’s still in there somewhere!_

“V, if you can hear me, come back to me! _Please!_ Don’t leave me here all alone! I need you! I _love_ you, V, please!”

Again, Vergil wears V’s features for a brief moment, long enough for his face to twist in sorrow, but again Vergil’s face returns. The sharp angles of his appearance twist as the man glares at you and you can’t help but shrink back at the fury of his gaze, _so_ unlike V’s gentle emerald eyes.

“Vergil…” Dante growls, already lunging forward with his blade extended. Vergil remains on one knee, his icy blue glare locked on you as his brother swiftly approaches. You watch in terrified stupor as Dante closes in, expecting the blade to decimate the unfamiliar form before you.

Instead, Vergil draws his own blade and expertly blocks Dante’s heavy blow with a vicious snarl. You can hear the blood rushing through your ears as the two men lock eyes, goosebumps erupting across your flesh as you desperately try to think of something you can do. Nero seems similarly paralyzed, his eyes glancing between you and the twins uneasily.

Vergil’s hair darkens for a fraction of a second as V struggles to the surface, using the momentary chance to fling himself away from Dante and throw the Yamato to you. The cruel glare returns and the man marches toward you to reclaim his blade.

Dante and Nero both step between Vergil and you, blocking his path with determined scowls. Mercifully, none of the three men attacks, their eyes and bodies frozen in a stalemate.

____________________

Vergil

To be recombined was… _jarring_ to say the least. He was shocked to find his demonic side so weakened, and even more so to find his human side so _strong!_ It was an odd sensation, to have half of oneself wish so desperately to exist separately from the whole.

_V… it even named itself. Fool._

His brother attacks as he processes the flood of information from his two halves, his mind going into overdrive to make sense of all that has occurred since his desperate plan was enacted. Even as distracted as he is, Vergil flicks the Yamato loose and blocks his brother’s blow before it can cleave him in half, snarling at the man in red as he prepares a counterattack that will leave him severely injured, if not dead.

**NO!**

A surge of power from within him, and when he regains his senses he finds himself a dozen feet away from his brother, his eyes fixated on the blade as it slides to a stop near your feet.

_She is inconsequential. Not a threat. Powerless._

Some portion of his being howls its discontent at the thought, but he roughly forces it away. No time to dwell on the intricacies of his humanity’s idiocy until the threat is resolved. He strides toward you, brutally ignoring the flicker of disquiet that pulses through him as he takes in the agonized expression on your tear-streaked face.

His view is blocked as his moronic brother steps between him and his goal, another young man joining him in a classic image of protectiveness.

“Not. Another. Step,” the young man growls. His right arm is pulsing with light, and Vergil realizes the arm isn’t flesh, but metal.

_The boy who had Yamato!_

Another flash; he’s now on his knees, eyes locked on Dante.

_What in the world…?_

“No way, pal. If there’s even a _hint_ of V still in there, I am _not_ gonna kill you, no matter how much you beg,” his brother comments with a smirk.

_I **never** beg!_

Vergil launches himself forward, using his demonic power to teleport close enough to you to grasp the Yamato. He’s within a few inches of you, can smell your skin and hear your choked breathing. It evokes a powerful image in his mind, something from his human half.

Your eyes, fluttering closed as your head rests on a pillow across from his own. The distance between you shrinks into nothingness as your lips meet; a taste of heaven.

Vergil grimaces, shaking off the lingering affection the memory elicited in his heart.

_Meaningless. She is nothing to me._

He draws the Yamato once more even as a twinge of doubt makes his stomach heave uncomfortably, the thought that you are in fact, _everything_ to him painfully difficult to subdue. He lunges away, creating a safe amount of space between himself and you to clear his mind.

“V… please, my poet, don’t go,” your pained voice calls to him. The sound irks him, _enrages_ him as it makes him feel things he can’t afford to feel, not now, not ever. He grits his teeth and sets his eyes back on his prey; Dante.

His brother holds his sword out defensively, guarding himself from Vergil’s obvious attack.

_Something else, then…_

He pauses as tactics and plans of attack flood his mind, each one being dissected and analyzed for advantages and potential weak points. He imagines dozens of possibilities in a matter of seconds, the familiar thought process as comforting as Dante is irritating. He settles on a plan and prepares to execute it, repositioning his body for the perfect angle as he purposefully keeps his eyes on his twin.

He charges, but not at Dante.

At Nero.

_Foolish boy, your ineptitude will cost you your life!_

Another flood of foreign emotion hits him as he closes the gap, terror and powerlessness tugging at his consciousness. He ignores it, focusing instead on the gleaming metal blade about to pierce the flesh of the boy before him. He doesn’t see your eyes shift to watch, doesn’t see your tear-streaked face twist into another level of pain as he hurtles toward Nero, a triumphant smirk twisting his lips.

He’s barely three feet away when everything changes.

A flash of movement, a blip of no consequence is the only warning as you sprint between his blade and the boy with a fierce howl, your body intercepting his death blow. Vergil freezes as the Yamato sinks into your abdomen, slicing through you just next to where your belly button would lie. An awful squelch, a wet cough as blood splatters his face. His icy gaze widens in astonishment, mouth dropping open as he stares at you.

Panic. Bewilderment. Regret and shame. A slough of feelings annihilates Vergil’s battle-lust, the portion of his soul that cares about you screaming in agony so deep it would drive most men insane as you smile at him sadly, his blade still embedded in your body.

_“Y/N!”_ Nero cries, finally paying attention to what’s happening right beside him. Vergil withdraws the blade with a soft slurp, throwing it aside like so much trash as his arms catch your falling body. Your face twitches painfully, eyes wide and chest heaving in panic as blood stains your white teeth an angry red.

**You _motherfucker! Look at what you did!_**

All the animosity and hatred of just a few seconds prior is gone as Dante and Nero reach him, their hoarse calls to you like knives in his throat. He lowers you gently to the ground, your blood pooling already around his feet in a warm puddle. He hears you gurgle past the fluid in your mouth to speak, and your words rend his soul from his body.

“I… _I did it, Lara_ … the scales… are _balanced_ now,” you choke out, your own hands pressing feebly against your side instinctively. He remembers _everything_ in a tsunami of memory, every moment with you, every touch, every smile, every kiss… He remembers it all.

_What have I done!?_

The overwhelming pain he had sensed before mercilessly assaults his senses; he can’t breathe, he can’t _think_ as the smell of your blood stains the air, its hot warmth spilling from you in rivulets. His own blood feels like ice, chilling him to the bone as it courses through his petrified body. Vergil thought he knew pain, thought he understood it in a way few could. Yet the searing, _torturous_ agony of realizing how important you were just after stabbing you was another realm of excruciating he never could have imagined.

“Shit! What do we do?” Nero frantically asks. His mind racing, Vergil recalls how you had helped him treat your injuries, how you’d treated his own wounds during your travels together.

His hands move to press against the gaping wound, applying pressure just like he did when your hip was sliced open. His fingers tremble, quickly turning red as the crimson flood continues. His heart pumps dangerously fast, eyes dilating from the adrenaline as he bites his lip anxiously.

“Dante, get her bag! _NOW!”_ he screams, and his brother sprints to where your backpack lies nearby. Vergil can feel the flow of blood slowing, feels your heartbeat weakening against his hands even as Dante dumps the bag out beside him.

“Towels, we _have_ to stop the bleeding!” he cries, tears bursting from his panicked eyes as his stoic mask slips away, his energy focused entirely on saving your life. Dante brings over every last towel he can find, and all three men take one and press it against you desperately.

“C’mon, kid! Stay with us!” Dante pleads, brow furrowed nervously.

“Why did you _do_ that? It should’ve been _me!”_ Nero hoarsely points out, tears leaking from his eyes as his nose turns red. Your hand rises slowly, shaking as you stroke Nero’s cheek gently.

“Worth… it,” you gasp, and your hand drops lifelessly as the breath leaves your body.

_What have I **done**!? Little fox?!_

His hands press harder, his full weight behind him as he searches your form for any signs of life. Nero reaches out and pats your cheek, leaving a streak of blood behind as your head lolls in response. The boy swallows heavily, glancing at Dante as his eyes overflow. The two of them sit back in unison, their hands dropping the towels they had held. Only Vergil still tries to staunch the blood, but its no use. The deep vermillion hue of the wide puddle underneath you stills, the blood no longer flowing.

_No… no, no, no…_

Vergil holds the towel against you desperately for another moment, refusing to accept the reality before him.

“She’s… she’s _gone_ ,” Nero tearfully states, sniffling. His words at last drive home the truth for Vergil and he cradles your limp body against him, heedless of the blood that will forever mark his clothing as he holds you close one last time. He doesn’t care that his brother and the boy are watching, doesn’t care that either one of them could easily destroy him as he mourns the first friend he ever made, the first person he ever allowed into his heart. The first person he ever _loved_.

He can do nothing to stop the stream of memories now, each one another dagger plunging into his flesh.

Your smile.

Your laugh.

The cute thing your nose did when you got angry.

Your courage, your resilience and stubbornness. Your strength and humor, your lips and your body. The glow in your eyes whenever you had told him you loved him, that shimmer forcing him to accept it as truth.

_I’ll never see her again… she’s gone…_

He rocks you in his arms, overcome with grief. He strokes your hair, your cheek, memorizing every last mole and freckle.

_She was mine, and I was hers._

_And I killed her._

_I killed her._

Why couldn’t he have gone back to his emotionless existence? Why did he have to discover how incredible it was to love, only to then learn how much it hurt to lose? His previous refusal to care about people seems so far away, so unreachable. It’s a bitter taste to realize how much he craves the emptiness of not caring, misses the lack of attachment he had cultivated.

All to be destroyed by you. In a single month.

_I never deserved her. Why didn’t she just leave?_

A warm hand grips his shoulder, another hesitantly on his back. He had completely forgotten Dante and Nero were there, so wrapped up in his own pain that nothing else registered. Gradually, his keening wails fade away. Not because his pain is lessened, but simply because he runs out of energy to continue.

He is destroyed, wrecked beyond repair as he exhaustedly quiets. Nero gently pulls you from his grasp and as much as he tries to hold on, he has nothing left to give.

“Vergil…” Dante’s low rumble proclaims his sympathy, and suddenly the man in red’s arms are around him. Dante holds his brother close, offering comfort as best he can. Vergil stays frozen for a long moment before he returns his brother’s embrace.

_I can kill him tomorrow. Or maybe next week._

______________________

For the remainder of his life, Vergil would never be able to recall how they all reached Nico’s van, the time a complete blank in his memory. All he knows is when they finally turned the corner with your limp body in Dante’s arms, three female voices all cried out as one.

_“Y/N!”_

Nico reaches you first, her long stride serving her well as she takes in the amount of blood covering all three men. She gasps as she sees your face, too still and frozen. She takes your cold hand in her own and presses it to her lips as tears pour from her eyes.

“What the _hell_ happened? You were supposed to keep her _safe!”_ the mechanic screams at Nero. He flinches as if she had slapped him, carefully keeping his eyes on the ground as he trudges forward to sit near the van. Trish and Lady carefully take you from Dante, carrying you inside the van with stricken faces.

“She took a blow meant for Nero,” Dante explains gruffly. Nico wails, collapsing into the legendary devil hunters’ arms and babbling incoherently through her sobbing.

Trish and Lady return, finally taking notice of the third man with matching sneers of distaste. He tries to meet their eyes with an equally cold expression but finds he can’t disguise his pain fully.

_So weak. So stupid, powerless and foolish._

“I take it her idea was a bust then?” Lady asks hesitantly, refusing to even speak your name. Dante gives her a pointed nod, gently turning to face her and Trish.

“Ladies, my brother Vergil. Vergil, don’t stab anyone,” Dante introduces them, his uncouth words making Vergil flinch. His brother grimaces, an apology clear in his eyes but Vergil simply walks away.

_Enough. Enough of this nonsense._

He forces himself to breathe evenly, arranging his features into a blank mask and setting his limbs in a neutral posture as he calms himself. It’s difficult, _far_ more difficult than it was a mere month ago. Just as he locks away the last of his grief, Dante joins him.

“Look, Verg… I can’t really imagine what you’re feeling, but I’m here, yeah? Don’t run off again. You’re the only brother I’ve got and I don’t know about you but I’m _sick_ of fighting,” the impudent man informs him bashfully. Vergil manages a tight nod, focusing on calmness and still waters. It doesn’t work very well, his teeth clenching as the tide of emotion surges once more.

“I hate to bring it up, but how are we going to deal with the tree?” Trish asks, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Dante sighs, stepping back over to the group to discuss options, but Vergil is having none of it. He stalks over to the group with a scowl, glaring at them all in turn.

“I’ll do it,” he states simply.

Nero exchanges a doubtful glance with Dante, but Lady beats him to the punch.

“How can you _possibly_ think we’d trust you with that after everything you’ve done?” she exclaims angrily. He only glares at her in return, failing to find the words to explain his urge to finish this, end this horror that had destroyed you forever.

“Because _I’m_ going with him,” Dante adds with a confident smirk.

Vergil swallows his anger and frustration, forcing his voice to be calm and steady.

“We need to sever the Qlipoth roots in the Underworld itself. Then, we'll seal the portal with the Yamato,” he explains coldly, to dubious looks of confusion.

“Hang on, if you do that, you can't come back,” Nero starts stubbornly. Dante whirls on him with an angry scowl.

“Why do you think I'm goin'? Someone's gotta keep an eye on your old man,” he comments to the boy, but Nero still won’t see reason.

“You can't just expect me to stay here, while you both go—” he cries out insistently.

“It's _because_ you're here we can go. We're trusting you with things on this sidem, capisce?” Dante counters, and Nero finally seems to settle. Vergil can see the resemblance in his son’s face as he scowls and crosses his arms.

“Don’t you let him die, Vergil, or you’ll have me to deal with,” Trish threatens with a steely-eyed glare. He stares at her brokenly until she looks away awkwardly, his empty eyes not holding the slightest threat.

“Make haste, Dante,” the elder Sparda urges, turning to face the Qlipoth with grim determination. He wishes he could see you one last time, but if he went in the van he knows he’d never want to leave. He must finish this. For you.

“Yeah, I know,” Dante replies, trotting over to join him. They transform together, a flash of red and blue mixing together as the two brothers launch themselves into the air, flapping their mighty demonic wings to ascend. Neither of them look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scales are balanced, and Reader in the end did save Vergil by forcing him to feel again. Please note, this ending will not correlate whatsoever with the sequel - I wrote this for fun, to see what would happen if the plan failed. Also, apparently my new job ran out of work for me to do, so I get the next two days off to write. Yay...?
> 
> Thank you all for reading, leaving kudos and commenting. As always, you guys push me to finish this even when my motivation flags. Thank you <3
> 
> Next Chapter - Alternate Ending Epilogue


	37. Alternate Ending Epilogue: Saying Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back everyone! Here's the final portion of SBHS, the epilogue for the alternate ending. Work has already begun on the sequel, chapter one will be posted by the end of this week. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Nero

Nero covers you with a blanket, carefully concealing your frozen features in a sign of respect and mourning. He sits across from your body at the red table with a heavy sigh, swallowing harshly to restrain his tears. Nico sits across from him, a mug of coffee in her hand. She’s been almost inconsolable, utterly shattered by the loss of both you and the poet. Lady is in the driver’s seat, Trish beside her as she starts the van and begins the long journey to Fortuna.

_How the hell am I gonna tell Kyrie about all this? It’s all so fucked up…_

The young warrior grits his teeth, almost snarling in rage at the way events had unfolded. That blow had been meant for _him_ ; he should’ve been the one to fall. And what the hell had you meant about balancing the scales?

_It doesn’t matter now. She’s gone._

A loud sniffle from Nico draws his attention as she stares forlornly into her mug. Nero reaches out, resting a hand on her wrist and giving her a sympathetic smile. She sniffles again, her eyes rising to meet his.

“Do you… y’know, wanna talk?” he asks her awkwardly.

“I guess… it’s just a lot, y’know? Feels like we lost even though Urizen is gone. Sort of,” she starts solemnly, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Yeah, I hear ya. Doesn’t really feel like a win,” he replies thoughtfully. Nico hums her agreement, her eyes drifting to rest on your covered body sadly.

“Dante said the thing that got her was aiming for you, right? What happened, exactly?” the mechanic inquires softly. Nero cringes at the reminder, bracing himself to tell her the whole story.

“After Vergil came back, things got weird. He kept shifting back into V, like he was still in there fighting. But Vergil wouldn’t let him out, kept trying to fight Dante. He was aiming for me when he stabbed her. She… she _jumped_ in the path, did it on purpose. She _saved_ me,” he explains sorrowfully. He bites his lip, the pain helping keep the sadness at bay.

“Did she suffer?”

Nero sighs, unsure how to answer. He rubs the back of his neck in discomfort as he gathers his thoughts.

“Not for long. There was enough time for us to try to save her. It was _weird_ , one second Vergil’s trying to kill Dante and the next he’s trying to save Y/N. He completely _lost_ it when she… when she died. She had time to tell me it was worth it,” he recalls morosely. He would never forget the look on your face as you touched him for the last time, the spark of life going dark in your eyes as he watched, helpless.

_Worth it…_

_Am I? Am I really worth her life?_

Nico stands, stepping closer to him to wrap him in a firm hug as his face crumples, unable to keep the sorrow at bay any longer.

 _____________________________________

By the time the van pulls up to the home he shares with Kyrie, the sun is low in the sky. Long shadows extend from the trees lining the road, skeletal shades reaching for him as he approaches the door. Before he can reach its familiar white paneling, it flies open with a crash as Kyrie runs out to meet him with an ecstatic grin.

He knows the second she registers his blood-soaked clothing; her smile vanishes, her steps faltering in concern as she reaches him.

“Nero! What happened? Whose blood is that?” she prods instantly. He glances back at the van as Trish, Nico and Lady all carry your covered body forward. None of them had any clue what to do with your remains but still knew better than to leave you in the vehicle overnight. Kyrie’s expression goes from concern to dread as she follows his gaze, still unsure what’s going on.

“Kyrie… It’s Y/N’s blood. She died to save me. We lost V and Dante, too,” he begins in a strained tone. Her arms wrap him in a hug, ignoring the patches of slightly damp blood as she comforts him.

_I missed you so much, missed this…_

He inhales deeply, reveling in the scent of the woman he loves so dearly. An ocean of gratitude rises within him, not knowing if he would have made it back to her without your sacrifice. Her thoughts seem to mirror his as she speaks.

“Then I owe her a debt that can’t be repaid,” Kyrie murmurs softly. Nero holds her close, her presence soothing his grief to a point where he can bear it. She is an island amidst the chaos, a refuge from the pain as she always has been.

“I’ll call a mortician. I suppose the garage will have to do for now, can you show them where to put her?” Kyrie asks calmly. Nero releases her and nods tightly, not trusting himself to speak as she smiles sadly at him and retreats inside to make the terrible phone call. Nero sets his shoulders, turning to face the three women carrying you to him.

“In the garage, I’ll make a spot for her,” he mumbles, already walking toward the massive rolling door. With a simple keycode, it rolls away to reveal the familiar grey concrete floor and brick walls. He stomps over to the folding table to the right, quickly moving all the tools and various bottles of fluids to leave a space for you to rest. His throat tightens uncomfortably as the three women lug you inside, carefully arranging you on the cold plastic. The four of them stand in silence for a moment, staring at the body beneath the throw blanket in anguish.

The echoing patter of Kyrie’s approaching footsteps breaks the silence as she enters the garage, phone held up to her ear as she approaches him.

“Did she have any family, Nero?” she asks gently. He frowns, looking at the floor as he realizes none of them had bothered to try and contact your mom yet.

“Yeah, her mom is in the next town over from Red Grave. Last name is Newman,” he replies. Kyrie nods and returns inside with the phone to finalize the arrangements, leaving him and the three other women alone once more.

“I’ll see if I can get her number from the phone,” Nico mumbles, heading back to the van outside with slumped shoulders. Lady sighs and looks at Trish.

“We should head back, to wait for Dante,” she reminds the blonde quietly. Trish nods and gives a strained smile to Nero.

“We’re going to keep Devil May Cry going until he gets back. You’ll tell us when there’s a service for her?”

He nods tightly, eyes still locked on your covered body. Trish lies a hand on his arm in sympathy before she turns away to leave, Lady coming over to give him a warm hug. Nero grips her tightly, trying to return her support in kind.

 _____________________________________

The morning of the service dawns bright and cold, a chilly wind blowing in from the sea. Robins and sparrows flit happily around the graveyard, a startling contrast to the group of mourners assembled around your casket. It’s a beautiful dark oak, silver handles decorating the sides and white lilies arranged on the lid.

It makes Nico want to vomit.

_How can everything seem so nice and pretty when she’s gone? It ain’t right!_

She wants to rip the flowers away and carve deep grooves into the wood, marring the smooth surface with her pain. She wants to scream and cry, to punch someone, _anyone._

Instead she takes a seat near the front, holding her offering in silence as the minister drones on. It had been your mother’s decision to have the boring man speak, talking about heaven and hell as if he knew what either of them looked like.

Nico knows better.

She pretends to listen as the preacher rambles for what feels like hours, her thoughts hidden behind a careful mask of blank attention. At long last the man falls silent and the mourners step forward to leave their small tokens for you. Nico waits until everyone else has had their turn before she steps forward, grasping her item tightly as she approaches.

She can hear several quiet murmurs behind her as she unsheathes your sword and holds it high, a few gasps of surprise as she plunges the blade straight into the wood, embedding it there for all time. It feels right, feels like the perfect way to remember you to force those here to admire the sword you had wielded to prevent your home from being overrun by demons.

She returns to her seat as the tears fall at last, memories of you flooding her mind. Beside her, Nero wraps an arm around her shoulders awkwardly, doing his best to support her even as his nose turns red and he sniffles.

The creaking sound of the casket being lowered makes goosebumps erupt on Nico’s arms. She hates that sound; it reminds her painfully of those she’s lost. Now she has you to add to that list. She stares at the too-green grass under her feet as the echoes fade, your casket now at rest at the bottom of the earthen pit. The minister leaves, several of the mourners who hadn’t known you well following soon after.

Then it’s just her, your fellow devil hunters and your mother. The unfamiliar woman glares at the group angrily, clearly still blaming them for your demise.  Kyrie alone approaches the distraught woman, her kind personality giving her the ability to find the right words to ease the woman’s suffering. Nico watches from far as the two women embrace sadly.

She looks away as the sensation of intruding on a private moment overwhelms her, standing and gazing at the plain tombstone that decorates your final resting place.

_May she walk with angels._

_Seriously? That’s it?_

Nico snorts, wondering who was the dumbass that chose the words. If it’d been up to her, it would’ve said something about being a badass who never gave up. Nero joins her with a sad smile, his nose still quite red as his gaze follows hers to rest on the granite stone.

“Damn, that’s it? Doesn’t seem like enough,” he murmurs quietly. She chokes out a laugh, leaning against him as he wraps an arm over her shoulders in comfort.

“No words ever are,” she comments sadly.

 _____________________________________

Two Years Later

A warm breeze rustles through the trees dotting the area, a few leaves breaking free and fluttering free in the wind. His steps echo on the stone pathway as he approaches the simple granite marking. He sighs heavily, crouching to leave the bouquet of irises in the waiting opening.

_May she walk with angels._

_Pathetically inadequate._

He brushes his white hair out of his eyes distractedly, more focused on your grave as his brother follows a few steps behind him. Dante keeps a respectful distance, for which he’s very grateful. It’s been a long two years; their time in the underworld had helped them to understand each other but it wasn’t until they’d made it back that they had truly become brothers again.

That was two months ago.

Dante had been here a few times since their return, but this was Vergil’s first visit.

He sits on the green grass, crossing his long legs and staring at the carved words marking your resting place. Dante backs away even further, leaving hearing distance to peruse other markings until Vergil is ready to leave. He sighs again, gathering his thoughts.

“I’m sorry its taken me so long, Y/N. I’m sorry for many things, actually,” he begins regretfully. The familiar ache settles over his heart as he addresses you, his longing to see you again forever left unsatiated. It still baffles him how much he cares for you, how much he misses you.

_There will be no one else._

“I want you to know that things are different now. I no longer wish to kill Dante,, though sometimes he makes it difficult. Nero’s coming around, though he’s understandably cautious. There’s much work to be done,” he explains hesitantly. It still makes him uncomfortable to show any amount of weakness, but there’s no one else here.

“I miss you,” he concludes, gritting his teeth as he forces the words out. Silence greets his words, not even the hush of wind responding to him. He stays still for a long time, not speaking a word but content to reflect on the past, on his short time with you while you were alive.

By the time Dante returns, the sun is setting behind him, his shadow being cast over your tombstone and draping you in darkness. Vergil recognizes the sound of his brothers footsteps and stands to meet him.

“I’ll return soon,” he whispers as he turns to leave with his twin.

And he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously cannot believe I finished it. Wow, what a feeling... 
> 
> My deepest gratitude to you for reading, leaving kudos, and for commenting at any point on this journey. I have enjoyed communicating with you guys thoroughly, and can't wait to share the second portion of the story with you! 
> 
> Title will be "Crimson Tide" :D
> 
> See you there!


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